The Huntingdon Affair
by Exocet
Summary: When Gisburne chases Robin Hood once more, he has no idea what he is getting himself into. Somehow, he gets drawn in family affairs, plots and secrets. Before it is all over, he will wish he had never heard the name "Huntingdon"...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - **Believe it or not, this story was supposed to be a oneshot. Somehow it just kept growing... well, you know what it's like. This story was not beta-read, so there are probably a number of mistakes, especially since I wrote it a while ago (I daresay my English has improved a little since then). If the mistakes offend you so much that you want to beta this story, feel free to let me know.

**Chapter 1**

Gisburne tightened his cloak around his shoulders, as he nudged his black stallion forward. Thick snowflakes were falling, and the fact that it was past eleven in the evening did not make it easier to see the tracks of the outlaws he was chasing, but they were still clearly visible, a sign that Robin Hood and his men had little lead over him and his soldiers. Perhaps he had still a chance to catch them, although he was far from confident - being in Sherwood at night was not by any means a stroll in the gardens. Damn de Rainault for sending him after the wolfshead in the first place !

Glancing behind him at the dark figures of his men who were trudging behind him, sinking in the knee-high layer of snow on the road, Gisburne motioned for them to move faster. To be fair, the Sheriff had been _very _angry when he had issued the order to go after Robin Hood - this time, the outlaws had exceeded themselves. Stealing a part of de Rainault's personal treasury, no less ! Not the taxes, not Nottingham's money - de Rainault's. They had dared to come take it in the middle of the castle ! Not to mention the five very fine horses Robin Hood's men had taken in their escape, which somewhat grieved Gisburne more than the loss of the Sheriff's jewels. And why did the wolfsheads have to choose the coldest night of the month to commit their misdeeds ? The steward had not had time to take a thicker cloak, busy as he had been to prepare the pursuit, and he regretted it bitterly now.

He leant forward on his saddle to have a closer look at the hoofprints. They were fresh, not yet scrambled by the falling snow, which meant Robin Hood and his men had been there hardly minutes ago. Excitement built up in Gisburne's chest ; this time, they would catch up with the outlaws, and all the trees of Sherwood would not be enough for them to hide. And then, they would be executed, and how much he would enjoy this sight...

"Faster ! Weapons at the ready !" he barked to his men. The outlaws would not let themselves be caught without putting up a fight, and unfortunately he had only had time to gather a bit more than a dozen soldiers. But they still outnumbered they quarries, and that would have to be good enough. Gisburne would take Robin Hood, and hope his men would manage with the others. Well, the half-wit would not be too much of a problem, but the Saracen or Little John might be another story...

An arrow burying into the chest of the soldier on Gisburne's right brought him abruptly back to reality, and he scanned frantically the trees on both sides of the road, trying to see where the arrow had come from. A scream of pain, and this time it was the man on the steward's left who fell, marring the white mantle of snow with his blood.

"Scatter !" Gisburne shouted desperately, while grabbing his sword. "Take cover !"

But he did not have time to say more, for the third arrow was aimed at him, and he could not keep back a hiss of pain when he felt the stabbing pain beneath his left shoulder. It did not matter much, though, for no one heard him amidst the cries of his men and the racket of their chainmails. Releasing the handle of his sword, he clutched at the wound as his blood trickled down his armour. He was too shocked to really feel the pain, but he knew that would come soon. And other arrows kept coming.

"Well, chase them out !" he yelled to his men - had they no initiative at all ?

Gisburne knew he should be taking cover too, but he had enough trouble getting his horse under control with only one hand as it was. All of a sudden, there was a rustle of leaves above him, and someone fell from a branch on the back of the stallion, behind him. The black horse tried to lash out to get rid of this supplementary burden, but his two riders were too heavy for him to manage it, and he ended up stumbling around. Normally, Gisburne would have sympathized with the horse, but at the moment he had other things on his mind.

The man behind him passed an arm around the steward's neck, half-strangling him in the process, and Gisburne felt the edge of a blade on his throat. He was being taken hostage, he realized in indignation.

"Stop fighting !" the man bellowed.

Gisburne had not seen his face, but he recognized Robin Hood's voice. He tried to struggle free, but the outlaw pressed the dagger harder on his throat, and a rivulet of blood dribbled from the shallow cut. The battlefield had gone silent, each and every man frozen in motion.

"Surrender or he dies !" Robin Hood added.

The soldiers exchanged glances, obviously uncertain what to do. Gisburne was tempted to order them to keep fighting to the last, but there were only eight of them still alive, and they had virtually no chance of winning. That, and he had no doubt Robin Hood would keep to his word and kill him. His pride did not allow the steward to order his men to obey an outlaw, so he kept silent, but he hoped they would not do anything rash.

Fortunately for him, his soldiers wanted to live just as much as he did, and so they lowered their weapons. Gisburne still could not see Robin Hood's face, but he could almost feel the outlaw's grin, along with the man's breath on his neck.

"Good !" the wolfshead said. "You have taken a most sensible decision. Now, you can leave freely, but don't come after us. We're taking Sir Guy as a... safeguard, so I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

"And give our kindest regards to the Sheriff !" another of the outlaws guffawed, as the soldiers made their way back to the castle. In the snow and the night, it would take them hours, so there was little hope for help for some time.

Teeth clenched, his face flushed with anger, Gisburne appraised his chances. Robin Hood kept a strong arm around his neck, and it would not be easy to break free - suicidal, one might say. On the other hand, although Gisburne had no idea what they intended to do with him, he would not put it past the outlaws to kill him. Since he had little to lose, it was better to give it a try. His left arm was nigh to useless, but all he had to do was to knock Robin Hood down, and he could gallop away, hoping that the outlaws would have a bad aim because of the snow and darkness and would not manage to shoot him down.

He counted to three, slowly, then abruptly hit Robin Hood with his elbow. The outlaw gasped for breath, but did not fall, and pushed Gisburne on the ground instead. The arrow, still buried beneath his shoulder, broke in the steward's fall, and the agony was enough for him to pass out. The last thing he saw was the face of the wolfshead, still mounted on his black stallion, then he knew nothing.

* * *

The Sheriff was not, by any acount, a patient man, and even less so when he was in a bad mood. And at this precise moment, he was in a very, very bad mood. Pacing in the main hall of the castle of Nottingham, he kept glancing outside through the open door, even though it was hard to see farther than a yard away. The night had long since fallen, and the snowstorm raging outside roared in gusts thick enough to blind anyone foolish enough to venture out.

From time to time, de Rainault harrumphed impatiently, then resumed his pacing. His patience was running very thin, yet there was little he could do but wait. Gisburne had left with his men hours ago, and there was still no sign of him coming back, which probably meant that either he had been successful, or he and his men were dead. The Sheriff hoped it was the former ; he wanted very much to get his jewels back. He would not have been half as annoyed if the money had belonged to the King's, but unfortunately that was not the case.

With a last groan of annoyance, de Rainault strode outside, shivering in his indoor robes, and tried to see something through the falling snow, but all he could make out was the dark shape of the closest tower. He listened intently, relying on his ears when his sight failed him, but there was nothing to hear save the howls of the wind, so he quickly got back inside, muffling himself up in his cloak. This winter seemed to be particularly harsh, which probably meant the peasants would try to get away with less taxes. Well, they ought to know him better, for all the time he had been Sheriff. Good or bad years, the King's demands were the same, and so were the taxes. It was not de Rainault's fault, anyway, if they starved after paying their due.

Hugo rose from his chair in the hall, rubbing sleepily his eyes as his brother entered and came stomping near the fire to warm up. The abbot was clad in purple as usual, with did not become him at all, but the Sheriff had given up explaining that to his brother years ago.

"No sign of them ?" Hugo enquired.

De Rainault glared at him. "Is Gisburne walking behind me ? No ? Then don't ask stupid questions !"

Used to the Sheriff's temper, Hugo did not react to the snappy comment. "Well, that's sad about your jewels, but there's really no need to look so worried. They were not even worth all that much to begin with."

"It's not the value of the jewels !" the Sheriff snarled. "It's the principle of the thing ! The nerve of that outlaw ! I swear, if he killed Gisburne -"

"Well then, you'll get another steward, that wouldn't be such a great loss", Hugo sniggered.

"Oh yes, it would !" de Rainault growled. "It cost me over five hundred marks to get him out of Newark, and I don't intend to see that money wasted."

The abbot raised an eyebrow. "Why did you even bother paying in the first place ?"

"Oh, leave me alone with your questions !" the Sheriff huffed, then restlessly began pacing again. Unfortunately, Hugo had asked a very good question. A question that had been bugging de Rainault ever since he and his steward had come back to Nottingham together. Why indeed had he bothered to pay Gisburne's ransom ?

_He could have killed me, in that abbey. No one would have known it was him, and he had all the reasons in the world to do it. Why didn't he, then ? Perhaps he wanted to get his position back. Yet he did not trust me, he showed it clearly when he held me at sword's point in the forest..._

The Sheriff discarded these thoughts in annoyance. Why should he care about his steward's motives ? Then again, he liked to understand. People he understood were people he could predict, and people he could predict were people he could control, therefore not dangerous to him. Pawns.

"My lord !" A guard burst in, out of breath. "They are back, my lord !"

"Took them long enough", de Rainault grumbled, although he was pleased to hear that. "Well, don't stand there, you oaf ! Where's Gisburne ?"

"Ah, well..."

"Don't stutter, idiot !"

"He's not among the men who returned", the guard said very quickly, averting his eyes from the Sheriff's piercing glare.

There was a silence, and de Rainault felt ready to explode, but he reigned in his temper. It would not help to yell when he needed to be calm about the situation and take the necessary measures. When he spoke, it was in a curt but restrained voice. "The men who came back. Bring them here."

The guard bowed hastily before leaving, and returned seconds later with a half-dozen men soaked to the skin with melted snow, their faces blue-ish from the cold. De Rainault stopped his pacing in front of them and stared at them. They all looked rather pathetic, and he narrowed his eyes, wondering whether a few executions would motivate the other soldiers to be more mindful of their duties.

"Well ?" he snapped. "Report !"

One of them, a sergeant, seemed to be their spokesman, and he related briefly the pursuit, the outlaws' ambush, and Gisburne being held hostage.

"The idiot !" de Rainault muttered under his breath.

The sergeant's lips twitched slightly, which seemed to indicate an acute hearing.

"This damn wolfshead is scoffing at me !" the Sheriff complained loudly. "First my jewels, and now my steward !"

And yes, dammit, if Robin Hood wanted a steward, he would have to find one on his own, he could not just come and steal de Rainault's. The Sheriff glared at his brother. "What are you sniggering at ?!"

"Oh - nothing, nothing", the abbot said quickly. "Don't mind me, Robert."

"I don't intend to. This time, I've had enough ! I'm taking all my men, and we'll drive the outlaws out of Sherwood !"

"But not now, surely", Hugo said offhandedly, casting a leisurely glance at the door. He knew as well as the Sheriff that going to Sherwood in this weather and by night was sheer suicide. It sickened de Rainault, but the chase would have to wait, and so would Gisburne and his jewels.

"No, not now", he conceded. "Tomorrow. If the weather allows it. But I'm getting rid of him, Hugo ! I killed Robin Hood once, I can do it again if need be."

"You're not afraid he'll come back again ?"

"Afraid ? Don't be ridiculous ! I'm not afraid of this wolfshead !"

"My lord... ?" that was the sergeant, again.

"Yes, yes !" de Rainault waved him away impatiently. "Dismiss the men, and yourself. But I want everybody ready to leave as soon as the weather permits it."

"Will you be leading us, my lord ?"

"It seems like I will have little choice in the matter, won't I ?" the Sheriff scoffed. "Since Gisburne was stupid enough to let himself be captured, and there's no one else with half a brain around here !"

The sergeant left, too happy to disappear from de Rainault's sight, and Hugo came beside his brother.

"You really do intend to go after Robin Hood in Sherwood ?" the abbot asked.

"That's what I've been saying for the past hour, is it not ?" de Rainault barked impatiently.

"Fine, fine. Just don't forget to write my name on your will before you leave."

* * *

Gisburne came slowly to his senses, and regretted it almost immediately. The first thing he felt was the throbbing pain beneath his shoulder ; even breathing was aching. But that was not the only thing. He was horribly cold, as though he was laying in the snow. Well, he probably was, the steward thought as the memory of what had happened came back to him. He would have moved if he had been able, but he seemed to be stuck in a state between slumber and awakening, and he could do nothing but lie there, motionless.

Then his sense of hearing came back, too, and he heard what he had missed so far - the sound of two voices, speaking softly. He easily recognized one of them as Robin Hood's, but the other was foreign to him ; probably one of the outlaw's men.

"...and I know that Will is right, but I can't do it, can I ? I'm not sure what to do actually, Tuck."

Tuck ? Was not that the name of the fat friar ? Gisburne tried to remember. He was nearly certain that the Sheriff had sent a missive to ask for the excommunication of his former chaplain. Not that it would do much good to help capture the outlaw, but it was a small satisfaction anyway.

"I can't tell you what to do, Robin. But I know for sure that if you kill him, you will regret it."

Wait a minute ! Kill who ?

"Will won't understand. But I can't tell him the truth. The problem is, he'll think I refuse to do it just because Gisburne's a nobleman."

"Let Will believe what he will, Robin. Besides, he knows better than that. He was just angry when he said that."

Oh oh. Seemed like what they were speaking of so casually was Gisburne's fate. And the steward was not even able to speak to defend himself. Although, it probably would have done little good with these wolfsheads, who respected neither the law nor any man, save their own.

"Yes, but I still have to decide what to do with Gisburne."

_Let me go. Let me go. Dammit, let me go ! But he won't, of course. _I _would have killed him, if I was in his shoes. So why won't _he _kill me ? Does he have such a high opinion of himself ?_

"Well, you could let him here."

_Yes !_

"No, can't do that. It would be murder, Tuck. Unconscious and wounded, lying in the snow ? Better to kill him quickly, in that case."

_No !_

"Then you don't have much choice, do you Robin ? You can't leave him, you can't kill him... that means we'll have to keep him a prisoner. Or bring him back to Nottingham."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

if Tuck had been joking, Robin Hood sounded deadly serious, and Gisburne found himself absurdly hoping that he would do it, even though he knew it was more than unlikely.

"For God's sake, Robin ! I was kidding ! Of course you can't bring him back to Nottingham - not now, at any rate. The Sheriff must be furious, the place is probably crawling with soldiers. And it's too far, we'll never make it back to Sherwood before dawn."

_Damn. They're right, the Sheriff must be furious. Perhaps it's a good thing I did not come back, in the end._

"Yeah, but I can't have Gisburne and Will around the same fire either, can I, Tuck ? By morning one of them would be dead, and it would not be Will. The others, I could trust them with this prisoner, but Will was always hotheaded."

"Is that why you sent everybody ahead to set the camp ?"

"Yes, but it's only a temporary solution."

"Why not tell them the truth, then ?"

"Tell them that Gisburne is my brother ? Are you mad ?" Robin asked in disbelief.

If he had been able to move, the steward would have gaped. Tell who that he was what ? For a minute or so, he felt as though his brain completely stopped functioning. He just could not work out the implication of this tiny little sentence that Robin had said. It was impossible, unbelievable, unconceivable. Robin Hood knew Gisburne could hear him, and he had said that just to unsettle him. It had to be it. There was no way they could be... _brothers ?_ The steward determinedly ignored the little voice in the back of his head that murmured that it all made sense. Of course it did not make sense.

"They would understand, Robin."

"No, they would not. We share the same blood, but Gisburne and I are nothing alike."

For some reason, even though he knew the outlaw had to be lying, the rejection hurt. He should be used to it, now - his entire life had been rejection. Well, not that he would want to be brother to the outlaw, anyway. What a ridiculous idea ! Gisburne did not know where Robin Hood had gotten it, but he would not be stupid enough to believe it.

"That's what his mother said", Tuck grumbled.

Mother ? When had they... _How had they even dared ! _It felt as though the sky was crashing on him, and Gisburne was not sure what to believe anymore, except that Robin Hood was not - could not - be his brother. The very idea was repulsive. Besides, he had never had a brother, and he was not about to start now.

Too shocked by the successive revelations - _lies !_ - Gisburne paid little attention to the rest of the discussion. Instead, he focused on regaining the use of his limbs, slowly and discreetly. He managed to open his eyes, and glanced at his hands. They were not tied up, and neither were his legs... Good. Then, he glanced quickly around to locate the horses. He saw his black stallion, but he was on the other side of the camp, much too far for him to reach the horse unseen. There was another, though, a dappled grey, hardly meters from Gisburne. It was a pity to leave his favourite horse behind, but his freedom was worth it.

Robin Hood and Tuck were a few meters away, seated around a meager fire. Gisburne only then realized how cold he was - that probably explained why his limbs felt so numb. He almost snorted, but stopped himself in time ; it would not do to be heard now, while his two captors were quietly speaking together and paying him little attention, but if Robin Hood really did not want to kill him, there were other ways than to leave him lying in the snow for an undetermined period of time.

Very slowly, Gisburne moved, careful not to make a sound. Fortunately, his armor was covered in half frozen snow, and it helped to smother the clinks of steel. The cold had another advantage ; he felt much less pain than he ought to. It was probably not a good sign, but as long as it served his purposes... The steward glanced again at the two outlaws, and regretted he did not have a crossbow with him ; he could have gotten rid of the two at this moment. However, there was no helping it, and the priority was to get away.

It was too easy, he thought as he came near the grey horse. These outlaws had obviously little experience of keeping prisoners. Assuming he was harmless, leaving him free of his moves, not even watching him... if one of Gisburne's men had shown such incompetence, he would have been lucky to come through it with his head still on his shoulders. But in this situation, he would not complain.

The steward always had had a way with horses, and as much as de Rainault laughed at him because of his passion for these animals, the skill came in handy. He laid a hand on the pommel of the saddle, reins gathered around his fingers, and slipped a foot in the stirrup. His right hand came on the horse's hindquarters, to help him propel himself on the back of the animal. Now was the critical moment ; he would have only one chance, and the two outlaws would likely go after him or shoot him or both. He would have to be quick, and each passing second increased the risks that he might be seen. He had to go, now !

In a long, fluid move, Gisburne jumped on the back of the grey horse, and immediately nudged it forward. The steed was well-trained, and almost immediately broke into a gallop. Behind him, the steward heard shouts, and he expected arrows to whiz past him at any moment. He heard none, but that did not make him stop. He leant forward on the horse's neck, to offer less of a target. In that position, he could not see where the horse was going, let alone direct it towards the castle, but he had no idea where he was in the forest anyway. He would just have to trust the horse to find the way back to its stable.

* * *

Tuck stringed his bow and prepared an arrow, but Robin caught his wrist to stop him.

"But he's getting away !" the friar protested.

"All the better", Robin replied. "I did not know what to do with him, remember ? Well, he can go back to Nottingham on his own, and good riddance !"

The friar gave it some thought, then shrugged. "Well, your call. I suppose it _is _much simpler that way." Then he eyed his leader suspiciously. "Is that why you did not tie him up ? You hoped he would escape ?"

Robin hesitated. "I did not exactly hope he would. He did not look like he would manage it. But if he did escape, I thought I would not be too grieved about it."

Shaking his head, Tuck came back to sit near the fire, then, unable to help it, he began to laugh good-heartedly. Robin grinned and came to sit beside the friar.

"Well, what's so funny ?" Little John came into sight and sat with them.

"Oh, you gave me a fright !" Tuck complained. "Lurking in the shadows like that !"

"I did not lurk !" John protested. "I just came to tell you the camp is ready... Where's Gisburne, by the way ? Not that I miss him, but I prefer to have him in sight."

"He escaped", Robin shrugged.

John raised a dubious eyebrow. "He escaped, eh ?" He sniggered, obviously not very convinced by the explanation. "You were only two to guard him, of course. And it's not like he was wounded and unconscious when I left", the big man ironized.

"He took us by surprise", Tuck said quickly in defence of his leader.

John snorted, then caught sight of the horses, and a rather comical look of horror spread across his features. "He did not leave with the grey horse ? Tell me he didn't !"

"Well, yes he did. Why ? Does that matter ?" Robin asked, slightly surprised.

"He asks if it matters !" John moaned. "You half-wits, that's the horse that was carrying the Sheriff's jewels !"

Tuck and Robin exchanged a glance.

"Damn..."

* * *

When he realized that the outlaws had not bothered to run after him, Gisburne allowed the grey horse to reduce his pace ; the steed had already had a rough ride that evening, and he did not want to strain him. It might take longer to reach Nottingham that way, but it was better than having the horse collapse under him from exhaustion. Trotting was excruciatingly painful, even with his wound numbed by the cold, so he settled for an ambling gait, much more comfortable and also faster than walking. Now, there was nothing he could do but let himself be carried back to the castle.

After what felt like hours, the horse reached the edge of the woods. The snow had stopped falling at some point, but Gisburne was completely unable to remember when. The whole ordeal felt surreal, as though it were a simple dream. If it was, the steward prayed he would wake up soon. He leant on the horse's neck, no longer to avoid arrows, but because he did not have the strength to keep his back straight. How much farther could be the castle ? And what time was it, anyway ? Long past midnight, in all certainty, but the sky was still dark. Although, with these clouds...

Some time passed, but Gisburne was completely unable to tell how much. His universe had been reduced to the regular rhythm of the horse's gait, and he came to wonder if he would one day reach the castle. Then the hoofs of the horse thumped on the wood of the drawbridge, and relief flooded through the steward. He had made it.

If the Sheriff did not kill him for letting Robin go free yet again...

* * *

Having spent the most execrable night, ruminating over his humiliation of the past evening, the Sheriff was up at dawn - as much as the dim, grey light in the horizon could be called that, but at least it was not snowing any more. De Rainault was about to leave his quarters when someone knocked urgently, and he heaved a sigh. The men should know better than to bother him when he was in a bad mood.

"Yes ?" he called impatiently.

The guard opened the door and bowed deeply. "My lord, the..."

De Rainault glared at him. "It had better be important ! It's not even five in the morning."

"Yes, my lord, but..."

"Unless you are here to tell me my jewels have been retrieved overnight, of course."

"No my lord, but..."

"Well, speak then ! Don't keep me waiting !"

The guard glanced prudently at the Sheriff. "Yes, my lord. Sir Guy is back."

"Ah... what ?" For once, de Rainault was completely speechless.

"Sir Guy is..."

"I heard you the first time, you oaf !" the Sheriff grumbled. "What do you mean, he's back ? The outlaws freed him ?" The memory of a time when Robin Hood had disguised himself as Gisburne crept in his mind, and he looked suspiciously at the guard. "You are certain that it _is _Sir Guy ?"

"Oh - yes, my lord. No doubt it's him."

De Rainault sighed impatiently. "Well, where is he, then ? Why didn't he come himself to tell the tale of his miraculous escape ?"

There was a slight hesitation. "We carried him in the guard's room."

"Oh, you did, didn't you ?" the Sheriff frowned. "What do you mean, 'carried him' ? And how... Oh, never mind, I'll ask him myself."

He grabbed his favourite furred hat, and strode outside his chambers, followed by the guard who obviously was not sure whether he should get back to his duties or attend the Sheriff in case he would have further instructions for him. De Rainault waved him away impatiently.

The guard's room was full of people who had nothing to do there, so much so that there was not even enough space for the short and thin Sheriff to enter. "Out, everyone !" he ordered impatiently.

His people knew better than to cross him, and they scattered quickly, the damn gossipers. De Rainault was not stupid enough to imagine they were concerned about Gisburne's health - they just wanted to be the firsts to know what had happened, these incorrigible gossipers.

Speaking of the devil, Gisburne was there, lying on his back. Since there was no accomodation in the room - it was never meant to be a bedroom, after all - he had been laid on the table.

"Well, Gisburne ? What happened ? And where are my jewels ?" the Sheriff enquired dryly.

There was no answer, and he frowned.

"My lord, if I may", another of the guards, a redhead, said. "He seems to be wounded, and we were about to remove his armour when you arrived..."

"Hmmm." De Rainault eyed critically his steward, and noticed for the first time the broken arrow beneath the man's left shoulder. He sighed in annoyance ; answers would have to wait, it seemed. "Well, do it then ! And call for a physician."

Perhaps it would take less time than when the Sheriff had been bitten by his own dog. Although, when he remembered Gisburne's smirks when that had happened, he would not mind too much the physician being late. That would serve the steward right. Yet, if he died, that would be over fiver hundred wasted marks, and de Rainault was not too keen on that to happen. The armour was being removed, and he watched the process with a vague concern. That looked painful.

"Call me when he wakes up", the Sheriff said to no one in particular, then exited the room. There was no sense in staying to watch his steward being hacked to bits.

He crossed a yawning Hugo in the hall, and the abbot looked at him with curiosity.

"Well, shouldn't you be happy, Robert ? You got your five hundred marks steward back."

"I would have preferred to get my jewels back", the Sheriff muttered, and his brother shrugged. He was used to de Rainault's moods, and knew better than to insist. Instead he quickly retreated in his room, presumably to snatch a few more hours' sleep - Hugo had never been an early riser.

As the Sheriff strode through the courtyard, one of the stablelads ran to him and knelt in front of him, a saddlebag in his hands. De Rainault glanced skyward ; fate had decided he would be endlessly sollicited, today.

"Yes, what is it ?" he asked, resigned.

"My lord, I took care of the horse Sir Guy was riding, and in the saddlebags..."

The lad trailed off, and the Sheriff scowled. "Don't stutter, boy ! What is it about ?"

But the youth seemed to have lost his tongue, and he dumbly opened the saddlebags. Inside, there was a velvet bag that de Rainault recognized immediately - it did, after all, belong to him. He stared in astonishment at the purse, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Unwilling to believe in miracles, he took the time to open the bag and to go through its contents, but there was no mistake ; these were indeed his jewels.

"Well, well", he mused. "Would Gisburne have become competent ? Or did Robin Hood try his luck once too many ?"

"My lord ?" the stablelad looked at him with uncertainty.

"You may go", de Rainault said absent-mindedly. "Good job."

The boy beamed ; it was surprising sometimes, how a simple word made these peasants happy. Words were nothing - one had always to be wary of lies and deceptions. Only acts truly counted, although they could have various meanings as well. There, for instance, Gisburne had brought the Sheriff's jewels back ; but how he had done so, after he had been injured and taken hostage, was beyond de Rainault, and most certainly beyond his steward's abilities. So, either Gisburne had been astonishingly lucky, or... could he have chosen to betray the Sheriff and formed an alliance with the wolfsheads ? Then this whole thing with the theft of the jewels would have been only a trick to secure his position ?

No, the Sheriff shook his head while walking back to his chambers. Such an elaborate trick for such a small result ? Besides, it was not as if Robin Hood would ever ally himself with Gisburne. He would sooner enter in an alliance with de Rainault himself. Not to mention, he could not imagine his steward accepting to be wounded so seriously just to make his story more believable. More likely, Gisburne had been lucky for once - as much as it could be called that, given the man's current state of health.

In any case, the Sheriff's day was considerably brightened, and he weighed up happily the velvet bag containing his jewels. For once, Robin Hood was the fool, and it felt _good_.

"My lord ?"

Rolling his eyes, de Rainault turned to face the disturber. Could he not have just five minutes to himself ? No, it was just work, work, work all the time. At least his mother had changed her mind about this visit she was planning, a few weeks ago. He still had had to attend the hangings, though.

"Yes, what is it ?" he prompted as last, as the guard who had solicited him made no move to speak.

"It's about this expedition in Sherwood, my lord", the man said. "Given that Sir Guy has returned since then, I was wondering if you still want to lead the men in Sherwood to drive the outlaws out."

"Ah - well..." de Rainault pondered the matter. Even though he had retrieved both his steward and his jewels, he still wanted to get rid of Robin Hood. But Sherwood was vast, and offered numerous hiding places for the outlaws. Then, he could use hounds, but he had been wary of the beasts ever since one of them had bitten him. He still shuddered at the mere thought of the nightmares that had plagued him during his recovery. "No", he finally decided. "Not for the moment, in any case."

Replacing his men was beginning to be a bit too expensive for his taste. Gisburne had been recruiting more and more guards, and it was hardly enough at the rate Robin Hood killed them. Saviour of the people, ha ! No one ever mentioned the families of the guards he killed, naturally. And some of them were hardly more than boys. Not that the Sheriff cared much, but it still amazed him how people could have a selective memory and still believe themselves to be virtuous. Robin Hood thought himself a hero, yet he had killed many men, and not always advisedly. He was just a common criminal. But the people did not see it, because they were all serfs, Saxons and half-wits.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : **My thanks to Hoody for her/his review. I couldn't reply directly since you didn't leave a mail address, but I appreciate it. Your English isn't bad at all, but if it's easier for you, you can leave a review in German or Spanish, I don't mind. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

_

* * *

_

_Three weeks later_

"Gisburne !"

Hands clasped in his back, the Sheriff was pacing impatiently in the courtyard. He glanced back at the hall, but saw no sign of his steward.

"Gisburne !" he barked once more, annoyed that it was taking the man so long to answer.

At last, he made out the tall and slender figure of his steward as Gisburne stepped outside the hall. He was clad in his armour, although he did not wear his helmet. De Rainault himself never wore an armour, unless he had to. It was not very warm in the winter, and dreadfully uncomfortable in the summer, but that never seemed to bother Gisburne - and all the better, since the man's duties often required that he wore said armour.

"Yes, my lord ?"

"At last !" the Sheriff groaned, but he was in too good a mood to let Gisburne ruin it. "I have gotten a new horse. Quite an animal, I must say. Do you want to see it ?"

"Yes, my lord."

Gisburne did not soon very convinced, and de Rainault scowled. Part of the pleasure he had had in buying the horse had been the thought of the expected interest the steward should have shown, and the look of envy and admiration de Rainault had anticipated when Gisburne would see the horse. But he hardly seemed even concerned ! Ever since that night when he had been wounded, the knight had been more reserved than usual - sulky, almost - and the Sheriff was at a loss to know why.

Not that he cared about the state of mind of his steward, of course. But a moody Gisburne was not a very pleasant Gisburne to have around, and that was beginning to seriously annoy de Rainault. At first, he had thought it was because the man's pride had been wounded after he had not been able to capture Robin Hood that night, not to mention being taken hostage, but for heaven's sake, it had been three weeks ! Surely, Gisburne should have come to terms with it by now.

Well, perhaps seeing the horse would get a more interesting reaction from him. The Sheriff gestured at the stablelad, and the animal was brought in the courtyard. It was a splendid steed, entirely white - de Rainault had a soft spot for white horses, while Gisburne preferred black horses.

Thinking of it, perhaps that was the problem - Gisburne was sulking over the loss of his favourite stallion, Fury, still in possession of Robin Hood as far as he knew. And whenever a horse was concerned, the steward could hold a grudge for a _very _long time.

"A very fine stallion, my lord !" Gisburne said appraisingly, with some of his old enthusiasm back. "If I may... ?" he glanced questioningly at de Rainault, who waved his permission benevolently, and motioned for the stablelad to walk the horse.

The stallion pranced, then followed the boy obediently, and Gisburne observed it with shining eyes.

"It has a very good gait", he commented. "It'll probably be quite comfortable to ride. What is its name, my lord ?"

De Rainault smirked. "He's called Ghost."

"A most fitting name", Gisburne smiled.

Now that he had gotten the expected reaction from his steward, the Sheriff was getting tired of watching the stallion. He glanced at Gisburne ; judging from the knight's mesmerized look, he could stay there for a very long time if left to his own devices. Well, not today ; de Rainault had quite a few other things on his mind, and he waved for the stablelad to take Ghost back in his stall. He was impatient to ride him, but he would probably not have the time before next week. Perhaps he should have Gisburne ride it first, just to make sure the stallion had been properly trained. He was a good horseman, but not nearly as good as Gisburne. Then again, he did not spend half his life on a saddle either - he had other skills, though.

Speaking of him, Gisburne was watching the retreating horse, and the Sheriff had to call him twice to get his attention.

"There are other things we need to discuss, Gisburne", de Rainault informed him as he led the way back in the hall of the castle.

"Other things, my lord ?"

"Yes, other things", the Sheriff confirmed, although he wished Gisburne would lose this irritating habit of his to repeat what he said. "You see, I received a message this morning."

"A message ?"

De Rainaut glared at his steward, who did not seem to notice. "Indeed. Do you know what was in that letter ?"

Gisburne looked slightly puzzled by the question. "No, my lord."

The Sheriff waited, but the knight said nothing more. "Well ? Aren't you curious ?"

"I..."

Rolling his eyes, de Rainault waved a scroll of parchment under Gisburne's nose. "Read it, then !"

Obediently, the steward took the letter and deciphered it. Meanwhile, the Sheriff kept his impatience in check - he was not sure how fluently Gisburne could read. Ah, well, he was probably being unfair. Gisburne could read - and even count. Although de Rainault was not too sure about anything beyond that, but it hardly mattered ; after all, _he _was there to do the thinking.

"The King is coming here !" Gisburne exclaimed.

"Oh, not only the King", the Sheriff groaned. "Unfortunately. Read the end of the letter, Gisburne !"

The steward complied, muttering under his breath as he finished to slowly decipher the message. To his credit, the Sheriff had to admit that the scribe had done a rather sloppy work. From what de Rainault had heard, the King had an habit to dictate his letter a little too quickly for the scribes to write them down. Of course the result was not totally satisfying, but no one would waste twice as much parchment over such a tiny detail.

"He is gathering the earls of England ? Here ?!"

"Yes, here !" the Sheriff snapped. His anger was not directed at Gisburne himself, but he needed to vent his frustration somehow, and the steward just happened to have the misfortune to be standing there in front of him.

"But not all of them", Gisburne pointed out diplomatically.

"A dozen are enough as it is, thank you very much ! How am I supposed to house them ? And feed them ? I am not even sure how long they will be staying ! And with Robin Hood roaming around..."

Gisburne stiffened, bristling at the comment.

"It's not my fault if..."

"I never said it was", de Rainault cut him - if he let the steward start on that subject, he would still be there tomorrow. "And anyway, that's not the problem ! But what am I supposed to do if he robs our guests ?"

"But surely, nobles of such high breeding would be travelling with a heavy escort", Gisburne protested. "There is no way Robin Hood could try and attack them with his handful of outlaws !"

"No ?" the Sheriff sniggered mirthlessly. "Then how do you explain that he managed to win even when your men outnumbered his band three to one ?"

"In the forest, he is well hidden", Gisburne grumbled. "On open ground..."

"Yes, yes", cut de Rainault, who was not in the mood to listen to imaginary feats of arms. "In any case, they are coming in hardly a week from now, and that leaves little time to prepare everything. But you will take care of it, won't you, Gisburne ?" he eyed his steward critically.

"'Course, my lord", he replied, although he did not seem overly happy with the task he had just been entrusted with. De Rainault could understand that - he would not have been either, had he been in the man's position. Thank the Lord he was not, he had enough problems as the Sheriff of Nottingham.

* * *

The next week was a busy one, but the activity was rather welcome, for it helped take Gisburne's mind off the various things that had been bothering him ever since that night, three weeks ago. His wound was almost healed, and he hardly felt a twinge of pain when he moved his left arm anymore, but it was not what annoyed him most. He had been trying to forget everything that Robin Hood had said, but the memory of the dreadful words would not go away. _Tell them that Gisburne is my brother ? Are you mad ?_ He had tried to tell himself that it was all a lie - but why would Robin Hood bother to lie while he believed Gisburne unconscious ? And what would he gain through it ?

The worse was that, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. He had long known that Edmund was not his father - not that the fact grieved him all that much, given the little esteem he had for that waste of a man. Yet, his mother had always refused to tell him who was his real father, although he had asked her numerous times. Eventually, he had just given up and left, and managed to forget about it. Mostly. But now, it seemed that the ghosts of the past were back to haunt him. Could really David of Huntingdon be...

"My lord ?"

Gisburne turned his attention back to the captain of the guard and scowled. "Yes, of course we should have a guard of honour to welcome our guests ! We are hosting earls, not beggars ! Take care of it."

The man nodded and left hastily. Gisburne sank on the bench and grabbed an apple - he had skipped lunch, too busy with the preparations. Well, anyway, what if Huntingdon was his father ? That did not change anything at all, in the end. He was a bastard, and the English law granted no rights to bastards - even if Huntingdon had been willing to acknowledge him as his son. And the earl was obviously _not _willing. Gisburne did not have any proof to back his claim, even if he had wanted to lay one. As for Robin Hood, the steward could not care less whether they shared blood or not - well, the very idea was disgusting, naturally, but that would not stop him from hunting the outlaw and killing him if he got the occasion. He was not as soft-souled as the wolfshead, thank God ! Yes, whether that was the truth or not, it changed nothing. So he would better forget about it, get on with his life and...

"Gisburne ! God in heaven, where has the man disappeared, now ! _Gisburne _!"

If that was not the Sheriff's charming voice. The steward grimaced and got hastily on his feet as de Rainault entered the hall.

"Well ? Daydreaming, are we, Gisburne ? Or have you gone deaf ?"

"No, my lord, I..."

"Never mind ! How are the preparations going ? We don't have all that much time left !"

"The preparations are going well, my lord", Gisburne asserted, although he actually was not completely satisfied - but then again, what the Sheriff did not know would not harm him. "About that, I need the list of the guests."

De Rainault rolled his eyes and grabbed a bunch of grapes in the bowl of fruit set on the table. "Whatever for ?"

"We have to prepare a housing for each of them, servants, food, perhaps set additional lads to take care of the horses..."

"Good lord ! How the devil am I supposed to pay for all that ?!"

Gisburne averted his eyes, finding a fascination in a tapestry on the wall. Money was not _his _problem, and he was grateful for it. He had enough to do as it was. He just hoped the Sheriff would not _make _it his problem.

"Well, Gisburne ? Try to be helpful, for once ! Have you nothing to suggest ?"

Wishful thinking, obviously.

"Hum - no, my lord", the steward replied prudently. "Isn't there anything left in the treasury ?"

"Left ?" de Rainault scoffed. "With the war going on with Wales - and I'm not even speaking of Normandy ! - no, there isn't anything left. Do you think I would ask you for a solution if there was ?"

Used to the Sheriff's testy temper when faced with that kind of problems, Gisburne kept silent.

"As a matter of fact, there is some money left", de Rainault finally conceded. "A few hundred marks. Not enough, in any case."

If he knew the Sheriff at all, there was probably much more than that, hidden in various places, but the steward knew better than to comment on that.

"Well, we could always collect early taxes", he suggested instead.

"Hmmm...." de Rainault stroked his mustache pensively. "Yes, a good idea. You see, Gisburne - when you try, you actually are capable of thinking. You should do it more often."

"Yes, my lord", the steward muttered. These past weeks, he had been trying desperately _not _to think. Especially not about outlaws, Robin Hood, or any kinship he might have with anyone _not _answering to the name 'Gisburne'. The Sheriff cast him a suspicious glance, and Gisburne looked away.

"In any case, here is the list", de Rainault concluded, handing him a scroll of parchment. "Now get on with it, and don't forget to collect these early taxes before tomorrow evening."

"I shall do it this afternoon, my lord", Gisburne replied as he took the list.

Unrolling the parchment, he checked quickly the list of names. Most of them he had heard of, some he did not know. He had seen one or two of them - the earl of Warwick, he remembered, was a short, brown-eyed man with greying black hair and a lovely daughter. The earl of Kent was an elderly man - by now he was probably near his seventies, and Gisburne wondered whether he would manage to come at all. And then, there was... Gisburne went very still when he saw the next name on the list. The earl of Huntingdon. Of course he had to be there. Was fate mocking him ? Gisburne felt he had had more than his fair share of such jokes, lately.

"What is it ?" de Rainault enquired, gazing at his steward through narrowed eyes. Gisburne realized he had been staring at the list for several minutes now.

"Nothing, my lord", he lied quickly. "I will have the list forwarded to the bailiff, while I go collect the taxes."

He would have to be careful - he was not such a good actor, and the Sheriff was dangerously cunning. Daring not push his luck, he swiftly took his leave. No matter what, Gisburne did not want de Rainault to know about his possible filiation with Huntingdon - he knew for certain the Sheriff would try to take advantage of it. After all, that was what Gisburne himself would do in the same situation, although in the present case there was not much to take advantage of - it was not like he could get anything from the earl. No matter where his blood came from, he was a bastard, and therefore did not exist. There was certainly no such person as Guy of Huntingdon.

"Gisburne !" the Sheriff called him back.

"My lord ?" he stopped dead in his track and turned slowly to face de Rainault.

"Before I forget - I have a present for you. Have a look in the stables before you leave", the Sheriff said smugly.

"My lord ?" Gisburne repeated, somewhat puzzled.

De Rainault sighed with exaggerated patience. "I said a _surprise_, Gisburne ! It means I won't tell you what it is."

The steward cast him a suspicious glance, unsure how much he should look forward to any surprise from the Sheriff, but the shorter man's features made it obvious he would say nothing more on the subject. Being given little choice, Gisburne nodded and left.

Curious in spite of his distrust, he headed to the stables immediately, and strode in the dark building, smelling with relish the familiar scent of the horses, the fresh straw, and the waxed leather of the bridles and saddles. He saw nothing unusual at first, his eyes still trying to adapt in the ambient murkiness. Then he caught a move in the last stall on the right, and frowned - there should not be a horse there. It was Fury's, and the stallion was in the hands of the outlaws... Walking forward, he looked closer at the animal, its shining black coat and graceful neck. The horse snorted and stretched his lips, begging for an apple, and Gisburne's eyes widened ; it was indeed Fury. He never forgot a horse, and especially not his favourite mount.

Robin Hood had probably sold the horse - he had little use for it in the forest - which meant the Sheriff had had to buy it back. Or perhaps he had just imprisoned the unfortunate merchant for selling stolen goods, but Gisburne definitely did not care. All that mattered was that he had Fury back. The stallion neighed and nudged his rider with his head.

"Ugh - yes, yes, I'm taking you out for a little exercise", the steward groaned, but he could not restrain a grin. Well, it was only fair - he had gotten the Sheriff's jewels back, and de Rainault had done the same for his horse. Only, he knew perfectly well that neither the Sheriff nor himself cared all that much for fair. However, no matter what had motivated the gift - and he was certain there _were _afterthoughts - he was grateful. To a reasonable extent, in any case.

On his way out, he intercepted a stablelad and ordered him to have Fury readied immediately, then he strode in the guard's room and barked his orders. He was well aware of his deep, commanding voice, and liked to use it. Rightly or wrongly and all too often, according to the Sheriff, but what did _he _know of such things ? Although, it was true that de Rainault never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed. He shouted only when he lost his temper - in other words, reasonably often.

"Twenty men and a cart, ready to go in fifteen minutes !" he ordered.

Twenty men, that was more than a standard escort, and could be considered a bit much, but Gisburne had long since learnt not to underestimate Robin Hood. Then again, the outlaw could not possibly know of the early taxes measure, since the decision had just been taken, but he most likely had spies in the villages and the forest, and one could never be too careful.

* * *

Gisburne came back to the castle after sunset, drenched to the skin and muddy, wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, but in an excellent mood. It had been a good day, even though it had been raining all afternoon and it had been a rough ride ; but the cart was full of money, and Robin Hood had not shown even the tip of an arrow. Which did not mean that Gisburne would slacken his guard ; he knew the daring outlaws too well to truly believe that the bags of silver were safe in the castle. He gave orders so there would be a dozen men guarding them at all moment. It was a lot, but better safe than sorry. The Sheriff would not be pleased if Robin Hood made fools of them again, and neither would the steward.

He entered the main hall, water dripping from his blue cloak, and made his way to one of the tables, leaving muddy tracks behind him. He pondered whether he should change or eat first ; it had been a long day and he was ravenous, but in this weather if he did not change soon, he might be taken ill, and he had had enough of lying down in bed following his injury in the last weeks, thank you very much. Besides, he also needed to dry his armour and to make sure it was done properly, otherwise it would get rusty. And then, he would have to scrape it with sand for _hours_, if it was even salvageable to begin with. Change of cloth first then, he decided.

Taking off his chainmail and armour was a great relief. The damn thing was awfully heavy, and even though Gisburne was used to it, riding a whole day wearing it was tiring. The steward spent a few minutes drying it ; it was a real chore, but that would save a lot of time to do it now, rather than waiting until it began to rust. Then, he discarded his clothes and sturdily rubbed himself dry with a towel, before putting on dry pants and his favourite, deep blue long tunic. Finally, he buckled a belt around his waist, his sword hanging loosely at his side. Even in the castle, he preferred to have a weapon with him at all times. The Sheriff had stopped mocking this habit the first time Robin Hood had gotten into the castle, proving that they were never completely safe from the outlaw.

Gisburne knew it was no use punishing his men over that. They were a bunch of incompetents at best, but not even the king's best knights could prevent a determined man from getting into a castle - it was just too big, and there was too much business going on. Unless the castle was under a siege, nothing could really be done about it. Truth to be told, the security in the castle of Nottingham was already more intense than in most fortresses, in time of peace. As much as there could be peace with King John ruling the country.

When he entered the hall again, almost dry this time, save for his hair, the Sheriff was there, seated in his chair, feet propped up on the table, busy eating an apple with his dagger. Gisburne sat down at one of the lower table, where a piece of cold meat and a loaf of bread seemed to be just waiting for him, and poured himself a goblet of wine.

"Quite a day you had, eh, Gisburne ?"

The steward followed de Rainault's gaze to his muddy footprints on the paved ground, and shrugged. "A lucrative day, I'd say."

Eyes brightening slightly, the Sheriff leant forward, nibbling at the morsel of apple stuck on the tip of his dagger. "How much ?"

"Around two thousand mark."

"Aaaah..." de Rainault had a pleased smile. "Seems like these peasants have more resources than I thought. Perhaps we should increase the taxes, shouldn't we ?"

Gisburne began to cut a slice of meat. "Actually, we should lower them."

The Sheriff cast him a sidelong glance. "Have you stayed too long in the rain ?"

"I meant that we should lower them, _but _collect them more often. So in the end, it would be the same as an increase."

"Hmmm..." de Rainault considered the idea, not really convinced. "That's overly complicated, Gisburne. Besides, the more often we collect the taxes, the more occasions Robin Hood has of stealing them."

"Yes, Robin Hood", the steward growled, his good mood quickly fading.

_He's not my brother. I don't care what he says - I'm not related to this idealistic, naive, dim-witted scum._

Gisburne quickly silenced the little, insidious voice in the back of his mind that said that Robin Hood himself must be feeling the same, since he wanted to keep their... possible kinship a secret. Anyway, it was all a lie. Just a lie to drive Gisburne mad, and - Heaven forbid, it was working. He wanted to forget all about Robin Hood, but each time he managed that, _someone _had to barge in and start talking about him. It seemed to be the main subject of gossip, these days. And if Gisburne deeply disliked gossiping before that already, he now completely _loathed _it.

"_Gisburne _!"

The steward blinked and turned his head to glance at the Sheriff. "My lord ?"

"Good heaven, were you even listening to a word I said ?"

"Hum..."

Fortunately, the Sheriff did not wait for Gisburne to reply - all the better, for he would not have liked the answer.

"Our guests will be here tomorrow."

"Indeed, my lord."

"So ?"

"My lord ?" Gisburne asked prudently, unsure as to what exactly the Sheriff was asking.

"Well, what remains to be done ? What's with you these days, man ?! Are you ill ?"

"No my lord", the steward said quickly, hoping that de Rainault would not start hurling food at him. "What remains to be done, uh..."

He thought about it. The kitchens had been notified, his guards were ready, the taxes had been collected, servants had been taking care of the guests' rooms, additional grain had been bought for the horses...

"Almost everything is ready, my lord. We are waiting for a shipment of food from Newark tomorrow, and everything is in order. The best room has been prepared for King John, the..."

"I don't care about the details !" de Rainault snapped. "Well, since you have everything in hand..."

Gisburne feigned he did not hear the vibrating irony behind these words.

"...I'm going to bed."

* * *

Sherwood was, most of the time, a pleasant place to dwell in. But most of the time did not include rainy and muddy afternoons, and even less the rainy and muddy nights that unavoidably followed. Fortunately, the outlaws had found a cave, big enough to shelter them, so they could spend a reasonably dry evening. That did not mean a warm evening, Robin thought as he glanced at Tuck. The friar had been trying to light a fire for ten minutes, and still had nothing to show as a result of his endeavour. It was hard to light wet wood.

"I'm saying, we should store dry wood in this cave for such days", Will muttered unhappily.

They were all soaked to the skin, but Will had managed to fall in a puddle of mud, and thus had had to take a dive in the river - with his clothes still on. So he was clean, but cold.

"That's kind of you to volunteer to take care of that", Robin commented absent-mindedly.

"Hey, that's not what I meant !" Will protested immediately, while everybody grinned mischievously at him.

Much's sudden arrival in the cave saved Robin from having to find an answer. "Edward's here !" the youth said while shaking vigorously his head like a wet dog, which had for a result to send droplets of water flying everywhere.

"Oh, you...!" Scarlet roared, raising a threatening finger.

Edward of Wickham entered behind Much, probably saving him from the dreadful fate Will had in store for the boy. In spite of the outlaws' antics, he looked concerned and worried, and did not even crack a smile when Much pretended to hide behind him from Will's feigned anger. Instead, he looked straight at Robin, who knew immediately that something had happened. Edward would not have come in such a dreadful weather without a good reason.

"Please, take a seat", Robin offered him immediately.

"Yeah, take a seat around the fire", Little John sniggered, getting an offended look from Tuck, whose efforts were still not met with any result.

The friar joined his hands and looked heavenward. "I pray thou, Lord, send me a little spark to light this fire. A very small one will do. Please ?"

Of course, nothing happened, and Robin grinned with mirth. "I'm afraid you will not be granted a miracle this time, Tuck."

"Oh, I'm sure you can do better than me", the friar grumbled. "Give it a go and pray Herne, eh ?"

Edward took a seat near the fire-to-be, and sighed. He looked tired, and for the first time, Robin noticed an early streak of gray in his blond hair. The man had a hard life ; Wickham was a miserable village, and the outlaw leader felt his resolve to help them strengthen. It was not always easy, to keep going with the life he had chosen. He was used to fine clothes, warm fires, servants - everything that made the ordinary life of an earl's son. And sometimes, in spite of him, although he did all he could to hide it, he regretted giving up all that. But now at least, he had friends, and a purpose - something worth fighting for.

"Do you want something to drink, Edward ?" he offered. "I'm afraid we have only water, but..."

The serf gave him a sickly smile. "Thanks, but I had enough water outside."

The outlaws sniggered.

"Yes, I can see that", Robin smiled. He took a thick woollen blanket - courtesy of the last merchant foolish enough to go through Sherwood - and draped it around the man's shoulders.

"Thank you."

"Now - I suppose you have news for us", the earl's son added. "Something has happened, has it not ?"

Everybody was now seated on the ground, ready to hear their friend's story.

"Taxes", Edward said.

"Taxes ?" Robin repeated with a frown. "What do you mean, taxes ?"

"Gisburne collected taxes today", the serf explained. "I don't think there is a single penny left in all Wickham, and from what I heard, we are not the only village in that situation."

"Taxes ?!" Scarlet repeated again. "But taxes were supposed to be collected in two months !"

"Indeed", Edward agreed. "But they collected them early, this time. And at the worst possible moment, in the middle of the winter. I don't know how we are going to live." He sounded miserable, now. "I'm sorry", he added. "We should not always come to you with our problems, and expect you to solve them for us - and I know that in the winter, life in Sherwood is not always easy either. But... I don't know what else I can do."

"Don't worry, Edward", Robin said in an attempt to comfort him. "We are here for you, and you did well to come."

"There's a thing I don't understand", John commented. "Why did they collect taxes now ? I mean, they never did that before. And as much as Gisburne is an heartless bastard..."

Robin flinched slightly at that.

"...he has no reason to starve the people of Wickham in the middle of the winter. Perhaps it's a trap."

"Maybe they need the money because of the guests in Nottingham", Much suggested. Everybody stared at him, and his eyes darted nervously around. "What ? Did I say something ?"

"Much", Robin said, his voice deceptively mild. "What guests are you talking about ?"

"Well, the guests..." the boy's voice trailed off. "You... you mean you didn't know ?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, we didn't !" Will growled indignantly. "When were you gonna tell us, eh ?"

"I thought you knew !" Much defended himself.

"Never mind !" Robin stopped them. If he did not put an end to the argument immediately, he knew it would end only with a mud fight, and his hair were just starting to dry. "What guests, Much ? And how do you know ?"

"Well, hum..." the youth was reddening a little, now, but more out of embarrassment than anger. "There is this girl who works in the kitchens, you see..."

Grins began to appear on the outlaws' faces, except Robin's. The leader was beginning to feel slightly concerned.

"You mean you have been seeing someone from Nottingham." He tried to keep the accusation out of his voice, as hard as it was.

"Yes, I have !" Much said. "Why, I'm not allowed to ?" he looked at Robin, a little provocatively now, and the blond man sighed.

"Never mind", he said, although he decided to have a long talk with the boy when the two of them would be alone. "So, what did she say ?"

"She just mentioned that the kitchens have been ordered to prepare a lot of food - a lot more than usual, and there is gossip about a bunch of nobles who are going to come. Some say the king himself will be there."

"Anyway, who cares about the reason ?" Will complained. "We'll just have to steal the taxes back, as we always do, and that's it."

Robin shook his head. "It might not be as simple as that."


	3. Chapter 3

The following day came all too soon in Gisburne's opinion. He had never had to deal with that many guests in the past, and was feeling a bit more nervous than he ought to. There was no reason to fret, though ; the great hall was in a state of greater cleanness than it had been in a very long time, (which had required some shouting on the steward's part but was well worth it), the tables were giving under the amount of food and wine, and the guard of honour in the courtyard looked grandiose. Quite frankly, Gisburne could not see what any of these earls could complain of, but he remained wary nonetheless. Experience had taught him that noblemen always found something to complain of, no matter what. For instance, whenever he caught an outlaw, the Sheriff always complained that he had other things to do than attend the hangings, or that it was not Robin Hood. Robin Hood, Robin Hood, as though he was the only outlaw in the vicinity ! Yes, the Sheriff was obsessed with him. And so was Gisburne, unfortunately. Damn the wolfshead !

Thinking of the devil, de Rainault seemed to appear out of thin air in the hall, and began to pace in front of the fire. He was no more happy about this gathering of earls in Nottingham, and not only because it cost money. But the gathering in itself spoke of trouble, and the fact that the King would be present did nothing to ease the Sheriff and his steward's concern, especially when they both knew what high consideration his Majesty had for them. Even the lord abbot Hugo, who in other circumstances would have hovered smugly around his brother in expectation of the doom to come, had looked slightly worried these past few days, although Gisburne wondered why ; Hugo had never done anything to displease the King. That he knew of, at any rate.

The steward fidgeted uneasily in his long, deep blue tunic. For once, he was not in his armour, but he would have preferred to be. At least the armour gave him a comforting if deceptive sense of protection, and he had a feeling he would need it.

A young page, his hair tousled and out of breath, entered the hall and ran to Gisburne. "My lord", he gasped, "the earls of Warwick and Leicester just entered the city."

Gisburne nodded curtly. "Good. Did they leave their escort at the gates ?"

"Yes, they were showed where they could set their camp, and the earls took only a few men with them."

The steward nodded, relieved ; he had feared the earls would insist to keep all their men with them, and he knew for certain that the castle could not house that many people. Why the King had to come and invade the castle of Nottingham when he had plenty of other castles, much bigger and better suited for that kind of meeting, was beyond him. And he definitely hoped it had nothing to do with either him or de Rainault. Well, if it did, he would know soon enough.

He strode to de Rainault, who had stopped pacing in favour of seating on a chair while playing absent-mindedly with his dagger.

"My lord", Gisburne said formally, "the earls of Warwick and Leicester are almost there."

"Are they, now." The Sheriff kept gazing glumly at the fire, with only a small frown betraying his inner feelings. Then, suddenly, his head snapped up. "Leicester, you said ?"

A bit surprised, the steward nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Monfort of Leicester ?"

De Rainault sounded thoughtful, now, and Gisburne was not sure he liked it. "That's the name written on the list you gave me, in any case. Do you know him ?"

"Not personnally", the Sheriff muttered. The tip of his dagger was now savagely digging a hole in the wood of the table. "But I heard of him." He was silent for a few seconds. "Gisburne, do you remember Philip Mark ?"

Glancing at de Rainault, Gisburne tried to hide his annoyance. He had little wish to remember what had happened while Philip Mark was at Nottingham, and he would have thought the Sheriff would feel the same way. Actually, it was the first time de Rainault even mentioned Philip Mark's name ever since the man had died.

"Yes, my lord", the steward conceded, as shortly as he dared without sounding too impolite, but the Sheriff did not seem to notice.

"Well, you see, Montfort shares some... characteristics with Philip Mark. If you see what I mean."

Gisburne did not. "My lord ?"

De Rainault stared at him, then sniggered. "Never mind. Just keep away from him, Gisburne. If you know what's good for you, you will heed that piece of advice. But of course I should not expect you to show too much common sense, should I ?"

"My lord !" Gisburne protested, offended. He always showed common sense. It was not his fault if events turned out unfavourably for him.

De Rainault hardly seemed to have heard him. "Anyway, I was wondering, about Philip Mark. Did you..."

He never got to finish his sentence, though, for the sound of horsehooves clattering on the paved courtyard reminded them that they had guests coming and little time for idle chatter.

"We should go greet them", Gisburne suggested unecessarily.

De Rainault pursed his lips. "Yes, I suppose so."

Being of higher rank, the Sheriff naturally took the lead, but for once Gisburne was happy enough to stay behind, unseen and unheeded. Although, given their respective heights, the Sheriff was not the best person for him to hide behind.

They came out in the courtyard, in the dim light of a rather grim afternoon - it would probably rain later in the evening. The earls were already there, but typically Gisburne noticed their horses first. Two very fine steeds, one chestnut and the other dappled grey. They seemed to be stallions, not gelding, and the steward was impressed with the fire he saw in the two animals. Ruefully, he brought his attention back to their riders.

The two earls, Warwick and Leicester, had obviously travelled together, although they did not seem to like unduly one another. Blatantly, each considered the other one a complete idiot, and the glares they shared regularly did nothing to dispel this impression. They must have had an argument on the road, Gisburne thought ; for why would two people who could not stand each other travel together ?

De Rainault bowed deeply, but with the stiffness of someone not accustomed to that exercise, and Gisburne followed his lead. The two earls were of higher rank, of course, but the Sheriff had been appointed by the King, and it was after all his castle, so he showed a bit less submission than he might otherwise have had to.

"My lord of Leicester, my lord of Warwick", de Rainault said with politeness but distantly, and Gisburne remembered what he had said about Leicester. To keep away from him. He hardly saw why, for the earl was far from intimidating. A short, brown-haired man, in his mid-thirties, and who carried his sword as though it was the first time he wore one at his belt.

"Ah, you must be Robert de Rainault", Warwick replied amiably. "Delighted, delighted. And... ?" He glanced at Gisburne with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, hmm - my steward, Sir Guy of Gisburne", the Sheriff said casually and with a slightly bored look, seemingly finding the introductions very tedious.

Gisburne had a slight bow of acknowledgement, although the two earls quickly ignored him. Of course, he was only a knight, he thought bitterly. _A knight, or an earl's son ?_ He quickly dismissed the annoying voice in the back of his mind. No matter what, he would never be more than an earl's _bastard_. And anyway, it was all lies. Robin Hood's lies, dammit ! He should not let himself be unsettled so easily.

"Now", de Rainault was saying, "perhaps you would care for a drink ? Your trip must have been exhausting."

The offer was welcomed with a reasonable amount of enthusiasm, understandable for two men who had suffered a three days travel to get there. They disappeared behind the Sheriff inside the hall, why Gisburne remained behind and cast a quick glance around to make sure the horses were taken care of. Satisfied, he went to the hall as well, where the Sheriff had already offered his guests a glass of the finest wine. As much as this gathering ordered by the King annoyed him, de Rainault knew to be a good host when he wanted to, and he was keenly aware of where his interests lay. Perhaps this gathering would even be worth the trouble in the end, if the Sheriff played carefully. And Gisburne had no doubt he would.

It was hardly a few minutes before the little page came back, to announce the arrival of another earl.

"Go greet him and bring him here, Gisburne, will you ?" the Sheriff said. Naturally, he could not leave his guests, so the charge of welcoming the newcomers would necessarily fall to the steward. Gisburne nodded, trying not to show his annoyance at the task. Judging from de Rainault's warning glare, he had not really managed, and he hastily left, not feeling too daring at the moment. As far as he could tell from his master's slightly bulging eyes, in spite of the pleasant smiles he shot to his guests, the Sheriff was still very unhappy about the whole matter.

Gisburne strode outside ; already, it was beginning to rain, sooner than he had expected although it was only a few stray droplets so far. The steward cast a glance to the young page, who was pattering behind him.

"Which earl was it ?" he asked.

The boy raised his eyes to look at Gisburne, intimidated. "The earl of..."

At the same moment, a white horse came through the gates of the castle.

"...Huntingdon, my lord."

The steward froze, completely unprepared for that. He had not expected Huntingdon to show up so soon, busy as he had been _not _to think about the man. But naturally, as he was the earl who lived closest to Nottingham, it made sense that he would be among the first to arrive. Gisburne knew that the man was coming, and he had planned to stay away from him as much as possible. But he had not anticipated that he would be the one to greet the man.

Huntingdon nudged his white mare forward, and mount and rider came to a stop right in front of Gisburne, who could not help but notice the earl was a good rider - much better than the two peacocks who had arrived before him. Raising his eyes to see the face of the earl, the steward could not help but study him closely, looking for a ressemblance with his own features. As soon as he caught himself, though, he averted his eyes abruptly, hiding his confusion as he bowed deeply.

"My lord of Huntingdon", he said, his mouth dry. He knew he sounded rather curt and not very welcoming, but that was the best he could manage.

The earl nodded back, dismounting from his mare. "You are Sir Guy of Gisburne, if I remember correctly. You came to my home two years ago, did you not ?"

"Indeed, my lord", Gisburne nodded, surprised that the earl would remember that such a long time afterwards.

The ageing earl had the delicateness not to mention the other time he had been to Nottingham, when he had been accused of plotting against the King's life by his own brother. It seem that the Huntingdons really did not have any sense of the family, Gisburne thought wryly. After all, he was himself a living exemple of... _of nothing. It's all lies_, he reminded himself firmly.

"My lord of Huntingdon", he said to break the awkward silence between them, "the lord High Sheriff of Nottingham is waiting in the hall. If you would care to join him ?"

Huntingdon nodded. "Of course, Sir Guy. Lead the way."

Trying not to bristle at the familiarity of his Christian name, Gisburne obeyed. He rarely even thought of himself as "Guy" anymore ; everybody called him either "Gisburne" or "my lord". The only person who had ever called him anything else was his mother. Of which he did not want to think. Wryly, he thought that that made it quite a lot of things he did not want to think of. And the fact that one of them was following him at that very moment did not make it any easier.

"My lord de Rainault", he announced formally, "my lord of Huntingdon."

Having done his part in the tedious process of the introductions, and all too happy to escape the presence of Huntingdon, Gisburne quickly excused himself to get back to the courtyard. He hardly imagined that anyone would notice his absence, save perhaps the Sheriff, and he had to welcome the other guests anyway.

* * *

The evening found Gisburne tired, with aching feet and back from staying up so long and bowing continuously to welcome a seemingly endless procession of earls. Not only was it immensely boring, but also he had caught himself mixing up the names after the eigth earl, which was somewhat embarassing. Eventually, he had given up and merely called them "my lord".

The King would not arrive until the next day, and it was all the better, for Gisburne felt he would fall over if he had to bow just once more. Thank Heaven, at least he did not have to entertain the earls, only to greet them. The dubious honour of making small talk had fallen to the lot of the Sheriff, who by the time the welcoming feast began was smiling more with his teeth than his lips. Hopefully, the menu would cheer him up a little. In Gisburne's opinion, the quality of the meat and wine were certainly the only up side of the whole disturbance.

Naturally, the steward was seated left to de Rainault, from where he had a very good overall view of their nine guests of honour. More were supposed to arrive the next day, although one could never be certain of arrival dates. All kinds of things could happen to travellers - wolfsheads, accidents... although the earls' heavy escort probably protected them from the first.

Perhaps he should have gone to meet the guests with a score of men for safety's sake, but one of him could not possibly meet several earls at the same time, and besides Gisburne somewhat doubted that Robin Hood's half dozen men would dare to attack earls. That would no longer be petty robbery, but high treason ; and if the wolfsheads did not know that, he trusted their leader would.

With the end of the meal came several minstrels with their instruments, who began to play so as to entertain the earls. It was an open invitation to dance, and it did not take long before several couples began to swirl in the middle of the hall.

"Just look at them", the Sheriff muttered. "They are the most powerful men in England after the King, yet they are no different from normal men."

They remained silent for a while, both observing their guests. The Sheriff, however, seemed to see more than Gisburne did, for he sniggered up his sleeve from time to time, bestowing his steward with an explanation every now and then.

"Do you see that ?" de Rainault asked, intently looking at a point in the room. Gisburne followed his gaze and saw nothing unusual, just the earl of something and a woman who had been introduced as his daughter, speaking with a young man who, the steward remembered, was called Thomas Fitz-Count and was the son of the earl of Cornwall.

"See what, my lord ?" he asked, curious in spite of himself.

"The earl of Derby is once again trying to marry off his sixth daughter", the Sheriff sniggered. "The girl is already twenty-two, I guess he's getting desperate."

Gisburne could not help but grin. "He had to pay for five dowries already ? There must not be much left for a sixth daughter."

"Well, there is that", de Rainault shrugged. "Although he does not have a son, so it doesn't matter all that much, I suppose."

They watched silently, as Thomas Fitz-Count somehow managed to gracefully escape both the daughter and her father to instead sit down with a drink, joining in the conversation of several others.

"The earl of Derby does not look that persistent", Gisburne commented.

"He knows a lost cause when he sees one", de Rainault shrugged. "Well, Gisburne, you're going to dance with the girl."

Gisburne stared at the Sheriff, completely taken by surprise and dumbfounded. "What ?"

"You heard me."

"B-but... but why ?" the steward managed to stammer.

De Rainault scowled. "Because otherwise, _I _would have to do it."

Indeed, as the host it would be difficult for him to shrink from the duty, if the girl's father "suggested" that they dance together.

"But..." Gisburne began once again miserably.

"Oh, for the love of Christ, just do it, man ! Besides, you would not lose an occasion to display your dancing skills, would you Gisburne ?"

Being left no choice, the steward had to stand up and make for the young woman. He did not even remember her name, he thought glumly. He just hoped that a dance with her would not give her father the impression that he was interested in the girl. Ah, trust the Sheriff to delegate that kind of chore ! Although he had at least given the steward a fair warning.

All right, so perhaps not so much of a chore, he thought as he came closer to the young lady. She was not too unpleasant to look at, although she was rather plain with her long brown hair and eyes. But the Sheriff's reluctance had probably more to do with the fact that he did not like to dance and had little patience with women in general. Especially those who began to cry after hardly a few jibes, like... what was her name... Mildred de Bracy, or something like that. Gisburne was relieved that she had not married de Rainault, in the end ; it would have been unbearable to have her around, crying on and on. That was the one time when Robin Hood had actually done a service to them.

Trying to look more enthusiastic than he really felt, Gisburne bowed in front of the girl. "Would you like to dance, my lady ?" he offered, as the minstrels began to play the first measures of a new piece of music.

The girl's face lit up as though he had offered her a birthday present in advance, which was rather flattering. Unless she had already given up on the prospect of dancing that evening and was ready to welcome just about any partner in her desperation.

"With pleasure, my lord !"

He took gallivantly her hand, and led her in the middle of the hall. Sneaking a glance to de Rainault, he saw the Sheriff observing them with an unpleasant smile, and he scowled. In the sole purpose of annoying de Rainault, he made it a point to enjoy himself, and judging from the girl's smiles she enjoyed herself as well. She was a fairly good dancer. If she had been a little more good-looking, and if her father had not scared away any possible pretendant by his insistance, she might have found a good match in spite of her being the sixth daughter.

At first, she kept shyly silent, but around the middle of the dance she ventured a few prompts at conversation.

"You are a very good dancer, my lord."

Gisburne grinned, not at all bothered by the fact that a girl in her situation would probably have said the same think even if he had been stepping on her feet every three measures. "Thank you, my lady. You are a good dancer too."

After that, there was an awkward silence between them, then she made another attempt. "I, hum... what do you like to do, apart from dancing, my lord ?"

Having little wish to burden himself with her for the rest of the evening, the steward voluntarily picked the subjects less likely to interest her. "Hum, horse-riding, chasing outlaws..."

He did not know it yet, but he had made a fatal mistake.

"Outlaws ?!" the girl exclaimed, taking her fingers to her mouth. "Oh, that's so exciting !"

He stared at her. There was nothing exciting in chasing outlaws, in his opinion. Although it certainly was satisfying when he caught one, the chase itself was often a bother, and unsuccessful half the time.

"Tell me", she chirped, "have you met this Robin Hood ? There are _so _many tales about him. Is he as good-looking as they say ? "

Gisburne's good mood was fading more quickly than one of Robin Hood's arrow could have hit a target, until he completely forgot he had been enjoying himself at some point. He scowled at the girl, who blinked nervously when she noticed his change of expression.

"My... my lord ?" she tried hesitantly, with a wavering and not quite convincing smile.

"Robin Hood is nothing more than a wolfshead", he replied coolly. "Just a wayward serf, who doesn't know his place."

"Yet you were unable to catch him", she pointed out with an unexpected directness.

Fortunately for Gisburne, the last notes of the piece of music were played at that moment, and he bowed stiffly in front of her, before he left as quickly as he could while remaining polite. The dismayed look on her face might have been comical, if he had been in a mood to appreciate it. Instead, he went back to his seat at de Rainault's left. Only as he sat down, he realized he still did not know the girl's name.

"Well, Gisburne ? You had a nice time ?" the Sheriff asked, with ill-concealed mirth. "You'd better have been polite with the girl."

"Yes, my lord", the steward muttered through gritted teeth.

* * *

The following day saw the arrival of the King, who looked as embittered and quick-tempered as ever. He hardly bothered to pay any attention to the people who had gathered in the streets to see him pass, and the people's cheers were somewhat unconvincing. Giburne even wondered whether the Sheriff had paid some of them to cheer more loudly, so as to put the King in a good mood, but he doubted it ; it was not like there was much to hope from Royal favours, these days. And even less when one's name was Robert de Rainault or Guy of Gisburne, given their past history with King John.

Fortunately, the travel had tired his Majesty, so he did not lay down his presence on his arguably loyal subjects for too long, and quickly retired to his chambers after everybody had bowed in front of him. Gisburne had no esteem whatsoever for the man. Of course, he was royalty, and as such was to be looked up to, but the steward had met him often enough to know he did not even have the charisma of his brother, King Richard. Richard had had a swinging mood, but at least he was cheerful most of the time, and he knew how to bring up his subjects' loyalty.

But Richard was dead, King John was alive, and it was no use dwelling on the past, although Gisburne could not help but notice sighs of relief when the door closed after the King.

"It's going to be a very long week", the Sheriff rasped in a low voice.

"Yes, my lord", Gisburne agreed glumly.

He half wished that Robin Hood would have robbed the King, even though he knew it would have brought much more trouble to himself and the Sheriff than it was worth. For, naturally, John would have blamed _them_.

After the King's arrival, everybody went back more or less to what they had been doing. Nothing more would happen before the King said so. Thinking of it... Why in Heaven had the King decided to gather his earls ? He had to have something in mind, but what ? Somewhat, Gisburne hardly believed that they would be discussing the fate of the country. As if King John cared, anyway. He considered asking the Sheriff, then discarded the idea ; de Rainault would stare at him in this haughty way of his and say something nasty about his intelligence - or lack thereof. Better to wait an see, and draw as little attention to himself as possible.

"Gisburne !" the Sheriff called.

"My lord ?" the steward tried to look more alert than he felt.

De Rainault motioned for him to follow, then headed to his rooms. Rather satisfied to get farther from the King and earls, Gisburne complied happily. Being a simple Knight, he had often yearned for the attention and approbation of people of higher breeding than himself ; but in this particular occasion, he felt that being seen might be more dangerous than it seemed.

Once in his chamber, de Rainault slumped down in a chair ; only then did Gisburne realize how much he was tense himself.

"Pour some wine, Gisburne", the Sheriff ordered.

The steward took the pitcher and filled two glasses, handing one to the Sheriff. He took a sip of his own goblet, feeling with relief the alcohol help him relax slightly. Nine earls and the King ; Nottingham was a keg of powder that asked only for a spark to explode, and both men were aware of it.

"I think Robin Hood is going to try to steal the tax money back", de Rainault said after a short while.

Gisburne nodded ; he had expected as much.

"Naturally, you will be ready to catch him", the Sheriff added, to which the steward nodded with conviction.

"I will double the guard, and..."

"No, you idiot !" de Rainault spat, somewhat wound up. "We want him to get inside."

"We do ?" Gisburne blinked, then suddenly understood. "Oh. To trap him inside."

"Indeed", the Sheriff confirmed mildly, although his glare spoke volume. _Took you long enough_ seemed to be his line of thoughts.

"Then I will take my men and wait for him in the room where the taxes are kept", the steward concluded.

"Yes", de Rainault said slowly. "And make no mistake, Gisburne. Most of all, the King must not know. If we let Robin Hood escape, our heads won't be worth a penny."

Yes, the steward thought. If Robin Hood made fools of them while the King was in Nottingham, there would be only two choices left. Straight to Newark to be beheaded, or straight to Sherwood to hide and become wolfsheads themselves. Neither choices were very appealing, especially when Gisburne thought of the damn _trees_. He remembered all too well the folly that seemed to have taken hold of him, when he had broken the rules of the time of the Blessing. Nightmares much too vivid, that had kept him awake at night for days afterwards.

"You think he will come tonight, my lord ?"

"I don't know", de Rainault shrugged. "But he will come. Tonight, or in two days, or in three days. Sooner or later. And you will be there to catch him."

Gisburne thought of the many sleepless nights that lay ahead of him and could not restrain a grimace. Yet it still was infinitely better than being beheaded or outlawed.

* * *

"Remind me why we can't just attack the cart that carries the taxes out of Nottingham as we usually do ?"

Robin Hood rolled his eyes and looked heavenwards. "For God's sake, and my own, make an effort, Will !"

"Well, you'll excuse me if I'm thick-headed, but there are only so many times we can go in and out of the castle !"

Robin took a deep breath and explained, for the third time. "The Sheriff won't send the taxes out of the castle, since he obviously needs the money to accomodate his guests. And if the money won't come to us, then we'll have to go to the money."

"Oh, we'll have to, will we ? I say it's sheer suicide !"

That was it. Robin's temper flared up. "Fine ! You go tell to the villagers in Wickham that they're going to starve because you were _afraid_."

It was a low blow, Robin knew it, for Will's objections were reasonable. But if he was no happier than anyone else to have to sneak in the castle, he failed to see any other solution. Of course, they could just keep robbing anyone going through Sherwood, but of late very little people had been foolish enough to do that, and the outlaws' income had dramatically decreased. If it kept going, they would have to find their preys farther than Sherwood.

Scarlet had paled, then reddened in anger. "Afraid ? You call me a coward ?"

"You said it !" Robin snarled back.

"Enough !" Tuck barked. "Stop it ! The next who opens his mouth, I will ask Little John to sit on him until he calms down !"

The threat got the expected effect, and Robin bit his lower lip in embarrassment. He knew he should not have let his temper get the better of him, in spite of the frustration. But Will had not been making things easy either, in all fairness. Yet, it was also true that he had been on edge, ever since...

Yes, ever since Marion chose to leave him.

"Good !" Tuck said. "Now that you have ceased to behave like children, maybe we can actually talk and think up a solution !"

"A solution", Robin sighed. "I have been thinking about it. I can think of nothing, other than getting inside the castle."

"Just because you can't find a better solution, doesn't mean _we _can't", Will said smugly and somewhat wickedly.

Tuck raised a threatening finger. "Don't you start it again !"

"No, it's all right", Robin cut him. "He's right."

His admission made Will look a bit uneasy rather than satisfied that Robin had given in, and he averted his eyes. "Yeah, well..." he muttered. "I don't have a better idea, really."

The others shared a glance. Neither did they.

"So what do we do ?" Robin asked calmly. "Do we try to sneak in the castle or not ?"

There was a silence ; none of the outlaws was a coward, and they all had done some very dangerous and crazy things at moments. But they felt their luck had to run short someday, and the idea of going into their enemies' den was nothing short of disquieting, at best. Yet, if they did nothing, they would have to watch their friends starve. People they had helped for years, people who had helped them when they had needed it. In the end, there was not really a choice.

"Fine", Will muttered. "But if anything happen, I reserve the right to say 'told you so'".

Relieved, both because Will had accepted to help and because his submitting to Robin's leadership was enough to get the others to follow his lead, Robin grinned. "Be my guest."

"All right", John nodded, as well as Tuck, and Nasir silently agreed, too. But it was not a surprise ; Robin had always known he could count on the dark and taciturn man.

They all turned to look at the youngest member of their group. Much looked alternatively at them, ill-at-ease. "I... Robin..." he began pleadingly, and the young outlaw leader felt sorry he put the boy through such a choice. Yet, Much was one of them, and there was no shrinking from the duty they had chosen to carry. They could not accept it. However, a sudden determination appeared on the young man's face, to Robin's surprise. He should know, by now, that there was more to Much than met the eye. "There aren't demons in the castle, at night, are there ?" the boy asked, almost cheerfully.

Robin had to smile. "No, there aren't", he said, while Will replied at the exact same moment "yes, there are."

Robin glared at the former soldier. "What are you speaking about ?" he snapped.

"What are _you _speaking about ?" Scarlet retorted. "There are Gisburne and the Sheriff in this castle. What other kind of demons do you need ?"

A general burst of laughter answered that. Much hesitated, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Don't worry, Much", choked John, who was laughing so hard that tears rolled on his cheeks. "If any real demon lived in that castle, Gisburne and the Sheriff would have scared them away long since."

The boy grinned hesitantly. "Well, guess I'll come, then."

"Good ! It's settled", Robin said, passing a hand through his blond hair.

"Hey, we still need to get inside", Will pointed out.

"Don't worry. I have a plan."

The outlaws shared dubious glances, but leant forward, ready to hear what Robin had to tell them.


	4. Chapter 4

The boredom was complete and deadly. The Sheriff tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, but managed to hide it behind his hand while pretending to scratch his nose. It would not do to look too annoyed in the King's presence, not to mention everytime de Rainault found himself in the man's presence, he felt like he was near a dangerous, poisonous snake. He had not much esteem for the King's intelligence, either, but the man seemed to be making up for it with his temper. A temper he was displaying at the moment as if he were on stage.

"It is beyond endurance ! Totally unacceptable ! They shall be suitably punished !"

"But, my liege", the earl of Huntingdon ventured, "de Redvers and de Bohun live farther from Nottingham than the rest of us. I am certain their lateness is the result of some incident, completely out of their control. They will certainly be here as soon as..."

"As soon as we die of old age, yes !" King John hissed. "When one lives farther, he leaves sooner ! That's ill-will on their part, to make their King wait. Their _King _!"

Huntingdon was probably ridiculously reckless, or he believed in all these stupidities about honesty and kindness, if he was willing to undergo royal wrath to protect two men he probably hardly knew.

"And what of the earl of Kent ?!" his Majesty went on. "Are you going to tell me he lives too far from here, too ?!"

The earls gathered in the room shared a glance. De Rainault was only too happy to sit back and say nothing. Usually, he disliked being ignored ; but given the circumstances, he felt it was much safer, and he made no attempt to draw any attention to himself. He preferred to watch the earl of Huntingdon dig his own grave.

"My liege", Huntingdon protested - he seemed to be the only one brave, or foolish enough to speak up for the absentees. "The earl of Kent is very old, and was probably not able to travel."

"And naturally", the King snarled, "he could not be bothered to send a representative, could he ?!"

"My liege..."

"Enough, Huntingdon ! Are you done contradicting me ?!"

The earl was brave but not insane ; he yielded immediately, knowing there was nothing more he could say. He knew as well as anyone else how whimsical the King could be, and it was no use going against him for he would not listen.

"We will wait one more day", King John announced. "And if the earls of Hereford, Devon and Kent are not here by tomorrow..." his tone spoke volumes.

Correctly interpretating the sentence as a dismissal, the earls left the room, obviously relieved to leave his Majesty's presence. De Rainault took advantage of his small height to leave as well, completely unnoticed, and quickly retreated to his chambers, his last refuge now that Nottingham was completely invaded by noblemen. He had not seen Gisburne often, either, these last days, which might mean that the man had more common sense than he had ever given him credit for. He was probably standing guard near the tax money or something equally useful - and clear of the King.

The Sheriff frowned as he bit thoughtfully in an apple, while seating himself in his favourite armchair. Thinking of Gisburne, the man had been behaving strangely of late. That he would try to avoid the King was understandable, but why would he be avoiding pretty much everybody else as well ? De Rainault would have expected him to hover around an earl or the other, in an attempt to gain some influence or favours ; but in the contrary, the steward had managed the considerable feat, given his height and build, to make himself nigh to invisible. That was not like him, not at all.

Well, not only that ; the man had been moody and sulky ever since that night, near a month ago, when Robin Hood had made a fool of , the Sheriff thought perfidiously, he should be getting used to it, by now. But there was something else, he was sure of it. Something Gisburne was not telling him. But what ?

Ah, well. He had enough to worry about his own hide not to concern himself with his steward's.

* * *

That evening found Gisburne standing guard in the room where the tax money was kept. Standing guard might not be the most fitting word, though, for he was at the moment sprawled in a chair, a pitch of wine nearby and an empty goblet in hand. A dozen guards were with him, waiting. They looked seriously bored, and had the steward not been there, they would probably have been drinking, laughing and gambling ; they dared not do it in his presence, which filled him with a certain satisfaction.

He was bored too ; that was the second night he was waiting for the outlaws to show up, and so far, there was no sign of them. Not the tip of the nose of a wolfshead. Perhaps they had just decided it was too dangerous, after all... But in the mean time, he had to wait until they deigned to do something. The steward yawned ; he had had a short night and a long day, and he longed for his bed.

A glance at the candle informed him that it must have been burning for several hours already, which meant it was late in the evening, probably near midnight. He felt his eyes close in spite of himself and began to doze off, jumping awake each time he heard one of his guards shuffle his feet or cough. Lost in a daze in between sleep and awakening, he could not tell how long it was until he heard something that most definitely was _not _from his men. No, that precise sound came from outside ; someone was trying to open the door.

Rising to his feet, the steward's hand went down to the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheath it when the moment would be right. Silently, he mototioned for his men to stand on each side of the door, the decors and stone pillars being enough to hide them until it was too late for the outlaws to flee. Gisburne himself hid near the door, ready to shut it close when the outlaws would come inside.

The lock creaked as it gave way, and slowly the door opened. In the darkness of the room, Gisburne could see nigh to nothing, but he did make out the blond hair of the first man to enter. He knew only one person in the vicinity with such hair. Robin Hood. His not-brother. Hatred made his shudder slightly, and he had to restrain himself from dealing a killing blow right now - but that would let the others escape. He did not want a single one of the wolfshead to flee. Not this time.

So he waited, as the outlaws entered. He waited and remained silent, even as one of the outlaws said, "it's too easy, Robin. I don't like it."

"What, you would prefer if it was too hard ?" the blond leader whispered back. "Come on, Will ! Here, take this casket. Full of gold. Think of all the people this gold will feed during the winter !"

Robin Hood was being very generous with gold that did not belong to him, Gisburne thought wryly. If the young wolfshead really wished to give money to the poor, he would better have waited to inherit Huntingdon from his father, and then he would have been free to give it all away. But no, instead he stole the King's money. Someday he would grow tired of it, and he would crawl back to his father, the steward thought bitterly. All he hoped was that, when this day would come, the King would not pardon him. Of course, King John was not likely to ; but King John would not live forever.

The outlaws were all in the room, now. It was the moment to act, Gisburne decided with a thrill of anticipation. His muscles tense, he leapt to the door and closed it with a kick. It was the signal ; immediately, his men showed themselves, swords at the ready. At last, the outlaws were trapped !

"Robin Hood is mine !" Gisburne shouted, although it was not really necessary. None of his men were anxious to face the young wolfshead, who already had a legend of his own.

Understanding at last that they had been had, the outlaws drew their swords, ready to fight. They knew they had no pity to expect from Gisburne nor from his men, so they would probably fight all the more determinedly. Gisburne paid them little attention, though ; he was entirely focused on his prey.

Robin Hood had his sword in hand, and Gisburne recognized with the flickering light of the torchs the blade of Albion, this damn sword that had given him the worst headache ever. But this time, it would not be enough to save its master's life. The steward dealt the young outlaw leader a powerful blow, but it was parried and Robin Hood struck back. Gisburne took a step backward, then attacked again, determined not to let his foe get the upper hand.

Somewhere beside them, a man screamed in agony, but neither of the fighters could afford to look who it was, for a second's inattention would have been fatal.

"You have gone too far, wolfshead !" Gisburne hissed through clenched teeth. "It is time someone stops you !"

"It is you who have gone too far !" Robin Hood growled back. "How many people must you crush before you are satisfied ?!"

The outlaw's next blow nearly beheaded Gisburne, but he ducked in time and only a few strands of hair fell victim to the attack. The momentum threw Robin Hood off balance for a split second, and that was enough for Gisburne, who hit him in the hand. The wolfshead's fingers went limp, and the sword fell to the ground. However, Robin Hood reacted almost immediately and managed to grasp firmly the steward's wrist, trying to make him drop his sword. They struggled thus for a moment, oblivious of the rest of the battle, entirely focused on each other. Gisbrne let his hatred and anger give him strength. He could not recall ever loathing anyone that much. Yet, as they fought desperately, their faces barely inches apart, he could not help but look at him and search for any resemblance between them. Just thinking about the possibility that... it made him feel a new surge of hatred.

"You're dead !" He snarled.

"Not yet", the outlaw shot back, although his face was red from the exertion. Gisburne was reasonably taller and heavier than him.

Gisburne managed to free his right hand from the wolfshead's grip, and slammed his fist into the man's face. Blood began to trickle down his nose and lips, but it was not nearly enough to quell the steward's fury. He hit him again, and again. Consumed by his rage, too late did he feel Robin Hood's hand at his waist, grabbing the hilt of his dagger. He tried to recoil, but did not have time, and he felt the cold steel of the dagger's blade on his neck.

"Surrender !" Robin Hood hissed. "Or you're dead !"

Although his anger made him almost sick, Gisburne had no doubt the young man would do it if he had to. He stopped moving, pale from indignation. _Not again ! He can't take me hostage _twice _in a month !_

But the wolfshead obviously did not share this opinion, for he called out, "stop fighting, men ! If you don't throw down your arms, I will kill him !"

The sounds of the battle receded, and soon the fights came to a stop. Gisburne was so furious that he hardly even felt any relief when the outlaw ceased to press the blade of the dagger so harshly on his throat. He could see nigh to nothing but his captor's face, lying on the ground as he was, but he heard people moving - probably the other outlaws.

"Good", Robin Hood resumed. "Now, John, Much, Tuck take whatever you can. Will, Nasir, cover the retreat. Hurry ! We don't have much time. Run now ! I'll follow in a second."

Gisburne heard some more running around, then a creak that told him the door had been opened. From the corner of his eye, he saw the last outlaw disappear through the entrance, which meant that for a few seconds, Robin Hood was alone in the room with him and the guards. He could not miss that occasion. He had gone completely limp, so the lord wolfshead had somewhat relaxed, and did not have time to react when Gisburne suddenly grasped his wrist and twisted his arm, pushing the blade away from his throat.

"Two of you, give me a hand !" the steward bellowed to his stunned guards. "The others, after the outlaws ! Get them no matter what !"

In the utmost confusion, the guards ran after the outlaws, as much to get out of his sight, Gisburne suspected, as to actually catch the outlaws. Robin Hood was resisting him, but had no chance to jerk free in such a position. This time, he was caught.

"Tie up his hands !" Gisburne ordered.

The outlaw seemed to understand, at last, how desperate his situation was now, and tried harder to get free, kicking around like a wild horse. But if there was one thing Gisburne knew, that was how to handle wild horses, and this one would be no more problem than any of the other, four-legged ones he had tamed before. The steward dodged easily, keeping all the while Robin Hood's arm twisted behind his back, thus limiting his freedom of movement. Soon enough, he was securely bound, and Gisburne grinned smugly.

Then, he hesitated on his next step. He could leave Robin Hood to his two men, and go chase the others. But the group of outlaws were probably far already, and he would not catch up with them. Besides, he did not trust his men to keep Robin Hood where he was, and he would not let his success be jeopardized by two half-wits. No, better to make sure he kept this one, rather than run after the others.

He was about to order the two guards to come with him and his prisoner, then changed his mind ; better not to let the tax money - or whatever was left of it - without anyone to guard it.

"You two stay here", he told them curtly.

They nodded. Naturally, he expected as much. None of his men would dare to defy him - openly, that is. He pushed Robin Hood forward, although he kept a steely grip on the man's arm. He was not taking any risk with him.

Conveniently, the jails were not very far, and five minutes later both captor and captured reach the room. It smelt of rotten straw, and the walls oozed water. There were rats, too, although at the moment they could neither be heard nor seen. And it stunk. But a wolfshead deserved nothing better, Gisburne thought as he pushed harshly the young outlaw in front of him.

Being alone, he had to open the railings himself. He assessed the situation quickly ; he had closed the door behind them, and Robin Hood, his hands tied behind his back, could not possibly open it. Judging it was reasonably safe to release his grip, he let go of his prisoner to open the railings.

"Don't try anything", he warned beforehand. "I'd rather have a public execution, but if necessary I will settle for something quicker. I'm sure the Sheriff would be pleased either way."

"That he would", Robin Hood groaned bitterly.

"Blame only yourself", Gisburne retorted as he lifted the railings open and let a wooden ladder slid in the hole that was the cell.

Lurking in the shadows, in the depth of the well, the old man that seemed to be a permanent resident of the King's jails raised bright dark eyes to meet the steward's pale blue. That the man was insane was a given fact, and Gisburne was not certain anyone remembered why he was there in the first place. He was already a prisoner when Gisburne had come to Nottingham for the first time, and none of his men seemed to remember a time when he was not.

Not bothering to free Robin Hood's hands, he pushed him roughly down the ladder. Naturally, the young man tripped and slipped down the rungs a little too quickly. Gisburne felt a certain satisfaction when he heard the wolfshead's grunt of pain.

"I won't stay here long, Gisburne !" the young man called, but it was only bravado, and they both knew it.

"No, you won't", the steward sniggered back. "You'll be executed soon enough."

He left the room with a grin. Now, all he had to do was make sure that the jails were guarded day and night, and then to warn the Sheriff. How sweet would it be to see de Rainault's face when he would break the news ! Although, perhaps he would better wait till morning. The Sheriff was grumpy when awoken in the middle of the night.

* * *

"You have what ?"

De Rainault passed a hand on his face, wondering whether he truly was awake. He hardly had had the time to dress and eat something before Gisburne had arrived, babbling something about Robin Hood and a prisoner he had made. Speaking about outlaws first thing in the morning was not the most pleasant thing, but it seemed to be important, so the Sheriff attempted laudably to understand what was going on.

"Robin Hood came here last night, just as you suspected my lord", Gisburne said, almost glowing with pride and conceit. "We ambushed him and I captured him."

De Rainault stared at his steward suspiciously. He had a feeling Gisburne was not saying anything. That, and he had not explained in details how he had got this shallow cut on his throat. But, given the circumstances, never mind that.

"You mean he's a prisoner here ?" the Sheriff asked, just to be sure. He had little doubt, for if Robin Hood had escaped, Gisburne certainly would not have been so swift to report it, but nevertheless... one could never be too careful.

"He is, my lord", the steward confirmed with a smug grin.

"Well, it was about time", de Rainault mumbled, although he was quite pleased as well. "I wonder how he got into the castle... oh well, we can interrogate him later. A fine feather in your cap, as I had said some time ago. I'll tell the King, and he'll certainly be satisfied to know that this outlaw is no longer a threat, and will be suitably punished."

Gisburne scowled slightly, but enough for the Sheriff to notice it. Of course, the steward would have preferred to be the one to announce the capture of Robin Hood to the King, so he could be certain to enhance suitably his involvement in the capture itself. Unfortunately for him, de Rainault had other ideas on the matter.

"Naturally, I will have to see for myself first", he added.

"My lord, are you doubting my word ?!" Gisburne had reacted immediately, and all too predictably. The man was so easy to read and to manipulate, de Rainault mused. Which made him all the more useful.

"Oh, no", he said, falsely appeasing. "But you see, Robin Hood has this tendency to vanish, whenever he's in your care... not that it happened often, mind you."

The steward pursed his lips, but was sensible enough not to comment further. "I will come with you", he offered instead.

"Why ?" the Sheriff jeered. "Do you fear I might get lost in my own castle ? Or perhaps that I might be attacked by a man who is rotting in a jail with no means to get out ?"

Scowling, this time Gisburne kept his mouth shut. That was the best thing he could do, in de Rainault's opinion.

* * *

That day was a consecration. Certainly the best day Gisburne had ever had, in any case, despite the lack of sleep. The excitation kept him awake, anyway, a mere thought being enough to dispel the haze of slumber. _I have captured Robin Hood ! _The wolfshead had quite a reputation - more than that, a legend - and most of the earls, up to the King himself, knew exactly who he was. Gisburne had not just arrested a man, but the very soul of rebellion. With this man out of the way, there would be no more tax money stolen, no more defiant peasants who forgot their place. The only one who had seemed unhappy - utterly miserable might be a more fitting term - was of course the earl of Huntingdon, who had been alternatively glaring at Gisburne and sighing wretchedly. Well, the steward did not care one bit. The earl was nothing to him, but a weak old man who seemed to keep failing his family.

At noon, the King had even asked both Gisburne and the Sheriff, "equally responsible for the capture of this infamous outlaw", to sit at his right. The steward was not surprised that de Rainault had managed to appropriate some of the credit, but quite frankly, he was in too good a mood to even care. The abbot Hugo had sneered and scoffed, and kept staring jealously at his brother for the whole day, but Gisburne had no doubt the abbot would eventually get his share of the King's rewards. If there _was _a reward, apart from words and honour. The King loved money even more than de Rainault, and he was meaner.

But naturally, royal favour had other good or bad sides, and it was not long before Gisburne realized it. At the beginning of the afternoon, he passed inadvertently by Aceline, the sixth daughter whose father's name he could not remember to save his life. Inadvertently, that was what he had thought at first. But when she appeared on his way to the stables out of thin air, and a third time as he went back to the castle, he began to suspect otherwise.

In the end, he retreated back to the stables. He had nothing against young women, even when they were not especially attractive - he was not hard to please - but that was stretching it a little, and he did not like being stalked. He was the one who did the stalking, usually. When he left again after spending some time caressing Fury, she appeared to have given up, and he made his way back.

De Rainault was in the hall, which was empty at that time of the day.

"Everything is in order, my lord", Gisburne told him.

"Oh, stop looking so smug", the Sheriff growled. "After all, you did let the other outlaws escape, didn't you ?"

The steward stiffened noticeably. "It wasn't my fault !" he snarled back.

"Wasn't it ?" de Rainault had a thin smile, and Gisburne began to wonder whether he had found out exactly what had happened that night. Uneasy, he averted his eyes, and the Sheriff's smile widened ever so slightly.

"I'm going to inspect the defences of the castle", he said abruptly, anxious to escape the gaze of his lord.

"Naturally", de Rainault called after his steward's retreating back. "After all, Robin Hood's friends might outnumber your men. You'd better be careful."

The Sheriff's sour irony was not completely unexpected, but caught Gisburne somewhat off guard. He had thought that de Rainault would be more... well, not amiable - the steward did not believe in that kind of miracles - but at least pleased and in a good disposition. Instead, he was almost moody. Something he ate, probably, weighing on his stomach. The Sheriff was insufferable, when in pain.

Stepping outside in the chilly end of the afternoon, Gisburne began to tour the battlements. At some point, his cheerfulness had deserted him, and he even glared at one of his men, who was looking at him. Perhaps the man had just meant to congratulate him, but quite frankly he did not care. He just wanted to be left alone for a while.

But that was not to be, for a short, brown-haired man seemed to appear out of thin air in front of Gisburne, who unpurposefully pushed him aside. The knight frowned and glared at the intruder, until he recognized him ; then his anger was replaced with embarrassment.

"My lord of Leicester, I apologize..." he began, but the earl cut him with a gracious flicker of his hand.

"Please don't, the fault is mine", he said with an amiable smile. "I wanted to have a breath of air before we all got back inside for dinner, but I suppose I should not get in the way of men doing their duty."

"Don't interrupt your walk on my account", Gisburne protested, gathering what little courtly manners he had been taught. "I will leave..."

"Stay", the earl commanded in the voice of someone used to be obeyed, and the steward was left little choice but to comply.

Leicester motioned for the knight to follow as he resumed his walk, and Gisburne reluctantly accompanied him. They had a beautiful view on Nottingham and, further ahead, on Sherwood, and the sight was appeasing, although the steward avoided to look at Sherwood. He was not afraid of it in spite of everything that had happened, but he hated the forest. It was a haven for outlaws, a perpetual trap for his men, and on occasions, it had been a snare for his mind and the Sheriff's. Years ago, he had liked to patrol the forest, ride his horse among the trees in the unearthly peacefulness that reigned there. That was something he no longer did - just another thing Robin Hood had taken from him.

"Your name is Sir Guy of Gisburne", Leicester said suddenly, tearing the steward from his glum thoughts. It was hardly a question, but the knight felt compelled to answer nonetheless.

"It is, my lord", he said briefly.

"Quite a capture you made, last night", the earl pursued in a silky voice. "From what I heard, this outlaw eluded you for some time."

"Wolfsheads will always be captured in the end", Gisburne replied prudently. "It is only a matter of time."

"Yet this one was no ordinary outlaw, was he ?" Leicester continued. However, he seemed to realize that the subject did not put his companion in the best of moods, and quickly changed the subject. "How long have you been serving the Sheriff of Nottingham ?"

"About four years, my lord." The earl's curiosity was beginning to make Gisburne feel slightly nervous.

"And before that ?"

"I served his brother, the lord abbot Hugo." The steward cast Leicester a sidelong glance. What was he getting at ?

"Hmm." The earl was silent once more, then went on offhandedly. "You probably met a good friend of mine, then. His name was Philip Mark."

Philip Mark. The Sheriff had mentioned that name, when he had told Gisburne to be wary of Leicester - although he still could not see how the earl could be more dangerous than any of the others. The steward was feeling more and more uneasy, although he hid it as well as he could and tried to appear casual.

"I met him, indeed, my lord. Before his death." As soon as the words left his lips, Gisburne felt stupid. Of course he had met the man before his death, or he would not have met him at all. Embarrassed, he pursed his lips and glared at the horizon, as though it was responsible for his blunder.

"I was sad to hear of his death", Leicester nodded, a wistful smile on his lips. "Did you have time to get to know him very well ?"

For some reason, Gisburne felt as though there was another meaning implied in the question, although he was not sure what. "Unfortunately, no. He was here hardly a few days."

"A few days can be more than enough, sometimes..." the earl murmured as he stopped at the corner of the battlements to look at the horizon.

Enough ? Enough for what ? Gisburne stared at the brown-haired man, feeling as though he was missing something obvious. The cool breeze of the evening caressed his face, and the steward shoved away impatiently a strand of blond hair. He followed Leicester's gaze, and wondered what the man saw he did not.

"And tomorrow, we will all celebrate together the death of his murderer", the earl concluded, with a slight smile.

"Robin Hood ?" Gisburne rested his elbow on the stone of the parapet, surprisingly still lukewarm from the sun of the afternoon. "He did not kill Philip Mark."

Leicester looked somewhat surprised. "Who did, then ? I was told..."

"One of Robin Hood's men did", the steward explained. "The Saracen."

"Sarak ?"

!

"No, another Saracen. He killed Sarak and disguised as him to approach Philip Mark and kill him."

"Another filthy Saracen", Leicester grumbled. "Are we in England, or in the Holy Land ? Sometimes I wonder."

"Filthy heretics", Gisburne agreed wholeheartedly. "Although they do know how to fight." He remembered all too well how the wolfshead Saracen had fought him and almost won. But that day, it had not been Gisburne being held hostage, for a change. And eventually, the heretic had had to yield.

"But you ought to be careful", the earl added. "I've heard that Robin Hood's men are exceptionally daring. Who knows if they would not try something to have their leader freed ?" He looked at the blond steward intently, as though trying to read his mind. Gisburne held his gaze.

"Have no worries, my lord. I have considered that possibility already."

Leicester nodded slowly, and a smile appeared on his lips.

"I have no doubts you have. Anyway, it so happens I have a keg of wine I brought with me from Leicester. Perhaps you'd like to taste it with me ? And we can drink a toast to our good friend Philip Mark, may he _requiescat in pasce_."

Gisburne smiled back. The Sheriff could stay in the hall and be grumpy all evening if he liked. Gisburne, for one, was going to enjoy his newfound popularity.


	5. Chapter 5

Will Scarlet had always felt free and safe in the forrest. But at this very moment, for the first time, the shadow of the trees was more suffocating than reassuring. He glanced at his companions, and saw the same self-blaming, ashamed expression that was no doubt showing on his own features as well. He had never felt like that before. They were alive and free, but the one who mattered most was not. He was not, because he had sacrificed himself for them.

Before that day, there had often been tensions between Will and Robin. He felt he was as qualified as an earl's son to lead the Merry Men, and had even resented Herne's choice. What could a nobleman know of the people's plight ? He had often wished he would be leader instead of Robin. But he was not certain he wished it any longer, for he realized at last what it truly meant. It meant the others were his responsibility. It meant he would have to willingly sacrifice himself for them if they were in danger. It meant he would be the one to be blamed each time they failed. It was a greater burden than Will had thought. Yet, it was a burden he had to carry for now, until they got Robin back, for none of the others seemed to want the job.

And they had been staring glumly at the ground, ruminating depressing thoughts, long enough.

"All right boys", Will called as he jumped to his feet. "It is time we stop feeling sorry about ourselves and start doing something."

"Oh, great", Little John sighed, rolling his eyes. "And what do you suggest we do ?"

"That's simple", Will said. "First, we get Marion to help us. Then, we rescue Robin."

"Marion ?" Tuck snorted. "She doesn't want anything to do with us. We have no right to trouble..."

"We have every right !" Will snarled back. "She is the one who abandoned us, not the other way round, and I'm not going to feel guilty about that. I know she loves him - we all know that. And locking herself in a convent is not going to make any of it better. We need her now. She can't hide forever. Robin will live and die whether she's there or not, so instead of feeling sorry for herself, she'd better enjoy whatever time she has down here with him."

Scarlet crossed his arms adamantly as he finished his little soliloquy, and faced the others who were looking at him stupidly. A silence followed.

"I see you all agree with me", the former soldier concluded with satisfaction. "Let's go then."

However, to see Marion, they first had to get across another obstacle, and not a small one by any means ; the mother abbess of the covent. She was quite protective of her charge, and very reluctant to let anyone from the outside see her.

"It is an emergency, I'm telling you !" Will insisted, but that did not seem to convince the stern woman, all clad in white and black, who was facing him.

"Young man", she retorted, "I will decide what is an emergency and what is not in my own convent, if you please !"

"Well no, I don't please !" he shot back. "We have to see her, and we have to see her _now _!"

Ooops... he had managed to upset the woman. Her face turned an interesting shade of reddish purple.

"Where do you think you are, young man, on the market place ?!"

"I... hmmmppphphhh !"

Little John had just gagged Will with his large paw, and it was probably just as well for the former soldier was about to call the abbess names that would not have befitted a holy place. Tuck took Scarlet's place to try to mollify the stern woman.

"Please forgive our friend, Mother, but we do have news that, I am sure, lady Marion would like to hear."

"_Sister _Marion gave up the outer world", the woman replied in a milder voice. "I can't imagine what kind of news she would like to hear. I don't suppose these are good news, and if they are bad news, why burden her with them while it is no longer her concern ?"

"What if _she _wants to know ?" The voice was Marion's. She had come in, without a sound, and stood there, motionless, stiff, and pale as a sheet. When she looked at her former companions, there was pain and wistfulness in her eyes.

"Marion, what are you doing here ?!" the abbess exclaimed, obviously displeased.

"Forgive me, Mother, but a sister told me people came in a few minutes ago to see me, and I heard you speaking so loudly..." she shrugged, not looking ashamed the slightest. In spite of her choosing a religious life, she had not changed all that much.

At that point, Tuck would probably have preferred to handle the situation gently and carefully. Unfortunately for him, Little John had relaxed his grip on Will, who jerked himself free.

"Take your big paw away, John !" Scarlet growled. "I do need to breath, you know ! Marion, we need your help. Robin's been taken prisoner in the castle and we're going to free him."

Various emotions appeared successively on the young woman's face as she tried to cope with the unexpectedness of this plea for help. She had been trying for months to forget everything about Robin Hood and her past life, and it came back now to slap her in the face. For a second, she regretted that she had not stayed hidden in her room until her former friends left, then she felt ashamed. What kind of cowardice was that ?

Yet, she did not feel she had the strength to face once again the possibility of Robin's death. Twice already, she had seen him dead, and that was twice too many. Love was cruel, sometimes.

"I... I can't help you", she said, her voice unsteady. "Why would you even need me ? I'm just a girl." She tried to defend herself through the first excuse that came to her mind. Not a very good one, but it would have to do. She did not feel ready to face once again the outer world, and she doubted she ever would.

"Nonsense ! You're one of the best bowmen in England !" Will protested, and she could see he was sincere.

"But I..." she began, desperately trying to find a way to get them to go away.

"You can't let us down now", John insisted. She had always liked the gentle giant, and it broke her heart to avert her eyes, to treat him with the coldness of an enemy.

"Yes, I can", she said calmly, in an emotionless voice.

"Little flower..." Tuck said, and she stiffened as though he had physically hit her.

"I _can't_", she cried. "I just can't ! Why don't you understand ?!"

It would not be fair, she thought. Neither to Robin, nor to herself. She had been almost tempted, before, to leave the convent and go back to the forrest. But she had never done it, because Marion had finally understood, at least part of the reason why she had come there in the first place. And she needed more time to sort out her feelings, if she ever managed to completely make it.

"Marion..." That was Much's voice. He looked at her pleadingly. "We need you", he said. "And... you know... it's not the same thing, without you."

He was the one to break her resolve. Any of the others, she could have told to go away. But he was still very much a child, and she felt as though she had to protect him. He was like a little brother to her. One of the last links she still had to Loxley. How could she ever turn him down ? The young woman lowered her head, torn.

"I will come", she murmured at last, defeated.

* * *

_Some time later, deep down in the nicest part of the Castle of Nottingham_

Robin Hood sighed and wondered what time it could be. No light filtered in the dirty hole that was his jail, but the flickering and weak, orange light of the torchs up above, so he had no way to know if it was day or night. All he knew was that he had been there for what felt like forever already, and he was bored out of his mind. It was strange to feel bored when he knew he might be living the last hours of his life ; but that was how it was. Well, he knew more or less for certain that it was late in the evening, for the prisoners had been served their diner - or whatever their gaolers called that - some time before. Yes, it was probably a little before midnight.

A squeal near his feet made him nearly jump in fright ; he barely restrained himself when he saw it was just Arthur, the old fool's rat. As an earl's son, he had rarely had to stay in the company of these filthy creatures, although that one was certainly different from other rats. Idly, Robin wondered how hard it was to tame a rat... although the old man certainly had had all the time needed to hone his skills. The young man took the small animal, holding back his distaste, and absent-mindedly petted the rat's fur, finding it surprisingly smooth.

"Don't hurt Arthur !"

Taken aback, Robin raised his head and saw the old man, whom he had though asleep, towering over him to protect the rat. Rolling his eyes, the young wolfshead showed the unharmed rat to its owner.

"See ? I'm not hurting it. Just, uh... saying hi."

"Give him back !" the old man squealed, in a way that was not without reminding of his rat, but with surprising authority.

Unwilling to upset his fellow-sufferer, Robin gave him the rat back. "You've nothing to fear from me", he sighed, but the old man was no longer listening, concerned only about Arthur. "The only one you have to fear are up there", he added bitterly.

At that, the old man raised his head and stared at the young outlaw. For the first time, he looked almost sane. "_Ab uno disce omnes !_" he declaimed pompously. "All, they are demons, and I see their faces, each day, white in the darkness, from the world I am no longer part of..."

The sentence ended in an unintelligible gibberish. So much for sanity... Yet, it was curious to hear a quote of Virgil in the mouth of this old man.

"What's your name ?" Robin asked, curious although he did not really expect an answer. And naturally, none came, but the young man was not about to let go of the matter so easily. He rose to his feet and caught his companion's shoulder. "Hey, what's your name ?"

The old man looked at him, appearingly surprised that someone would even care. "I... I'm not sure", he said thoughtfully. "It's been so long..."

Robin stared. "You don't remember your own name ?"

Rubbing his chin, his fellow-sufferer tilted his head, as though listening to a voice he was the only one to hear. "I think... it was... Nickolas."

Nickolas ? That was not a Saxon name, Robin thought. That was stranger and stranger. "How long have you been there ?"

"It's been twenty-seven years - almost twenty eight." Nickolas almost sounded proud. Well, he definitely had established a record. Robin decided not to dwell on the strange fact that the old man knew exactly how long he had been there, but had almost forgotten his own name.

"Why were you put here in the first place ?"

Nickolas began to mutter, seemingly addressing his rat, although he cast sidelong glances towards Robin from time to time. Robin was beginning to feel somewhat annoyed.

"Robert ! Robert, can you hear me ?"

The call was so unexpected that at first, Robin did not react, too astonished. He knew that voice, but he would _never _have expected to hear it here and now. Slowly, as though he was afraid it would all turn out to be a dream, he raised his eyes until they met the stern face that was looking at him from above.

"Father ! I mean... my lord of Huntingdon."

Yes, he reminded himself. His father had disowned him, and he no longer had any right to show familiarity... but he was not bitter. There was nothing else his father could have done. Robin had left him no choice. Yet, he had misjudged David of Huntingdon. He had expected to see anger on his father's features. All he could make out in the darkness was concern. For _him_. The realisation warmed his heart.

"I had to wait until everybody was asleep", the earl explained. He was slightly out of breath, his white hair tousled and his face flushed. "I got rid of the soldier who was guarding the door", he added. "Don't worry, Robert. I'll open this railings and draw down the ladder..."

"No, you won't", came another voice.

A surge of despair went through Robin when he made out the tall frame of Gisburne, who had stepped out of the shadows. Why was _he _here ? Why was he not sleeping of an excess of wine, celebrating the capture of the infamous Robin Hood ?

A grotesque family reunion it was, the young man thought bitterly. Albeit he was the only one to know that.

"I knew you would try something", Gisburne said smugly. "What kind of father would not try to rescue his son ?"

His voice sounded strangely ironic, and for a second Robin wondered if he _knew_. But no, he could not. His mother had asserted Sir Guy knew nothing of his real father, and she would not have lied while she was near death.

Huntingdon stood straight and proud, as adamant as ever. Robin prayed his father would back down, although it was probably too late for that. He did not want to take his father down with him. If he had to die, then he would. But he would die alone.

"Yes, I tried to save my outlawed son, and you are not the one who will stop me", the earl said, crushing Robin's meager hopes.

"You just committed high treason", Gisburne retorted wickedly. "But I suppose the King shall be the one to decide what will happen to you."

He drew his sword, that so far he had carelessly left sheathed, and held the blade in front of Huntingdon. The earl glared. Robin glared. Gisburne's thin smile widened. But David of Huntingdon knew he had little chance to fight succesfully a knight thirty years younger than himself, and his shoulders drooped in defeat.

"I am ready to face the King", he said softly. "I am not ashamed of what I tried to do."

"No ! NO !" Robin shouted. He did not care if Gisburne took pleasure in his state of desperation. All that mattered to him was to save his father. He could not bear the idea of his father dying by his fault. "Gisburne, don't !"

It was useless to beseech the Norman knight, Robin knew it, yet what could he do but try ?

"Robert !" Huntingdon barked, clearly upset. "You are an earl's son ! Have I taught you no better than that ? I will not hear you beg ! Not for my life, not for anything !"

"You should listen to your father", Gisburne said tauntingly. "He at least knows to retain dignity."

"Don't do it, Gisburne !" Robin called again.

"Why ?" the knight asked mockingly. "Why shouldn't I ?"

The words left Robin's mouth before he had time to think them.

"Because he's your father too !"

For a moment, everything seemed to go still. Huntingdon was pale as a sheet, and Robin felt a pang of guilt for telling him so bluntly that he had another son. Gisburne did not look surprised, but his face was unreadable. He had lowered his sword at some point and the blade hung loosely from his hand. From where he was, Robin could not see much more than that, but he heard the two other men's loud breathing, and that was enough to tell him how shocked they were.

"How... how do you know that ?" Huntingdon asked. "How... long..."

There was no use hiding any of it, now. "I met Gisburne's mother", Robin said calmly. His voice sounded strangely loud in the ambient silence. "She confessed it to a friar, then to me. She said she... she had been... your lover." He tried very hard not to sound accusing, but he was not sure he managed that.

Huntingdon remained silent for a moment, and in spite of himself, a disturbing suspicion began to nag Robin's mind. Gisburne had obviously been following the same line of thought, for he asked the question that Robin had been about to.

"You knew ? You have known all this time ?!"

"I... I suspected it", the earl admitted in a low voice. "I was not certain. I thought that, if it was the case... then certainly Margaret would have let me know. I kept telling that to myself..."

"Then I can congratulate you now", Gisburne hissed venomously, "for failing both your sons. If that is any comfort, you will probably die together." The steward barked a forced laugh.

"Wait !" Robin cried. "You can't have your... _our _father condemned !"

"Shut up, lord Wolfshead !" Gisburne snarled. "I owe this man absolutely _nothing_ ! I don't care what you say. He was never a father to me !"

Huntingdon lowered his head, and Robin from below could see his face almost clearly. He read shame and bitterness.

"I am sorry", the earl said softly, although the outlaw was not sure which of his sons the man addressed. Perhaps both.

"Sorry ?" Gisburne laughed mirthlessly. "Who cares about sorry ?"

Neither of the two Huntingdon found anything to answer that. Robin tried desperately to find a way to make Gisburne change his mind, to get him to spare his father. And if calling in family ties was not enough to reach the man, then they would have to call in to his ambition.

"Enough of that", the steward was saying. "Go to the door, Huntingdon. Don't try to escape."

"Wait !" Robin shouted again. "If my... our father dies..."

It was so strange to refer to the earl as _their _father. Robin _knew _Gisburne was his half-brother ; but he did not feel it.

"...then no one will ever acknowledge you."

"So what ?" Gisburne retorted. "I don't need a father anymore. Be silent now, wolfshead !"

Robin ignored him, following his line of thought. "On the other hand, if you don't tell anyone about tonight, you could..."

"Robert !" Huntingdon cut him. "Don't make decisions on my behalf !"

"It would be a solution, father ! You do need an heir, don't you ?"

"Robert ! Be silent !"

The earl looked at Gisburne. There was a mixture of sorrow, exasperation and contempt in his eyes, as though he could not quite make up his mind how he felt about his long lost son. Then, his features hardened, showing he had just reached a decision, and his gaze met Gisburne's.

"Is that your price ?" he asked. "An earldom ?"

There was a silence, as the steward pondered the offer. "You would really acknowledge me as your son ?" he asked dubiously. "And unveil the truth about my mother's sin ?"

Huntingdon hesitated. "No one needs to know the details. It is a family matter. I will acknowledge you, if you let my son go."

Gisburne's features hardened. "I can let you go free. But I will not release this wolfshead. He will not escape once again."

"I don't care about my own life", the earl retorted. "Why are you so reluctant to spare him ? Well, I suppose I should not be surprised that you are willing to condemn to death your own blood."

There was something akin to contempt in the older man's eyes, and Gisburne felt humiliated in spite of himself.

"He is nothing but a wolfshead !" the steward spat, while a part of him, strangely detached, wondered why he felt the need to justify himself.

"For the last time", Huntingdon hammered, "let Robert go !"

"I will not !"

The two men glared at each other. Down in his cell, Robin tried desperately to find something to do or say to help his father, but he was powerless. All he could do was watch the confrontation between father and son. Damn Gisburne's stupid pride and stubbornness !

Then, there was a thud, and taken aback, Robin saw the steward fall on his knees, then collapse entirely half on the ground and half on the railings above him. His astonishment was of short duration, though, for he soon made out Will's smiling face.

"Hi there, pretty boy", Scarlet grinned. "How do you like the accomodations in Nottingham Castle ?"

"They should change the straw more often", Robin replied as he grinned back. He glanced at Gisburne's body, and did not feel sorry the slightest for his half-brother. Served him well.

Huntingdon was already pushing Gisburne's body aside to open the railings, and with the help of Little John's strength it did not take him long to do it and lower the ladder. Robin climbed out with the agility of a squirrel and embraced his father with relief. Then suddenly, he remembered his fellow-sufferer and looked back.

"Hey, old man, feel like coming with us ?"

"No, no !" Nickolas called back. "There's only one way out... feet first ! Arthur, say goodbye..." he began to laugh nervously.

Robin gave up and shrugged. The old man would probably be still there in his jail long after everybody else was dead... He looked down at his half-brother. There was blood dripping on his neck. Already, Will was unsheathing a long dagger, and Robin hesitated, half-tempted to let him kill Gisburne. He was the only witness. If he died, no one could denounce his father. Yet...

"Don't do it, Robert", Huntingdon said calmly, and that settled it. All his life, Robin had grown accustomed to obeying his father, and he would not defy him on this matter. As long as it concerned him only, he felt qualified to make his own decisions. But Gisburne had ceased to concern him only the moment he had revealed the truth about their family ties.

"Leave him be, Will", he ordered.

Scarlet glared, on the verge of rebellion, but at the last moment, for some reason, he changed his mind. The murderous gleam in his eyes went suddenly away, replaced only by confusion. "But why ?" he hissed. "It's _Gisburne _! Hasn't he done enough wrong already ?"

"He probably deserves it", Robin agreed. "But... just don't, alright ?"

Will hesitated, then shrugged, clearly unhappy but unwilling to challenge his leader on the matter. Something had changed with Will, Robin thought, although he was unable to pinpoint exactly what it was.

Then she stepped out of the shadows, and he forgot all about Will. _Marion_. Why, how was she there ? Why now ? And did he even care ? The young man made a move to embrace her, but something on Marion's face made him change his mind. Suddenly uneasy, he averted his eyes, and noticed with some annoyance that everybody was staring at him.

He cleared his throat. "We should go", he said to hide his embarrassment.

They all followed him out of the room.

* * *

Good heaven, his head _hurt _! Gisburne tried to move, and found himself completely unable to do it. Then he focused on his sense of hearing, but apart from the blood thudding in his ears, he could hear nothing. His thoughts were sluggish, but he tried to put some order in his mind. That was strange. He had never imagined that just _thinking_ court hurt...

He would have laughed, if he had been able to, when he thought of what acrid comment the Sheriff would have made about his abilities to think. Interesting. Trying to laugh hurt too.

However, after a few minutes he began to feel slightly better. He eventually managed to open his eyes, and was thankful for the dim light. He waited some more, and the pain receded. Eventually, he felt well enough to sit up, but almost immediately the world spun around him. Dizziness overcame him and for a moment he wondered if he would not throw up. Taking a deep breath, he managed to restrain himself ; his reputation would be ruined if he did. Gisburne took a hand to the back of his head, and winced when he touched the dried blood and the swollen gash that his unknown assailant had left him. He did not need to look down in the jail to know that Robin Hood was no longer there, and he heaved a sigh when he thought of the very unpleasant day that awaited him.

At last, he rose to his feet slowly, on shaky legs, and staggered outside. The young man was surprised to see it was past dawn already, but the fresh air of the morning made him feel better. He almost tripped on the body of one of his guards - the very one he had asked to stand watch near the door, the incapable. He was not dead, just bound, and he emitted a muffle sound when he saw Gisburne. Well, he could wait some more time before he was freed, the idiot should not have let himself be knocked out in the first place.

That was probably what the Sheriff would tell him.

And Gisburne had to speak to him now... unhappily, he headed to the Sheriff's rooms, hoping he would not find him asleep. And for heaven's sake, that he would not pass by the King or any of the guests before he had had time to speak to de Rainault.

He was lucky - that, and the guests of Nottingham were not early risers - for he did not meet anyone in the corridors, except a servant who was waiting outside the Sheriff's room. The man raised an eyebrow when he saw Gisburne in his disheveled state, and albeit it was not his place to make a comment, his face made his thoughts obvious.

"My lord ?" he enquired, somewhat sarcastically.

Gisburne glared at him. "I need to see the lord de Rainault. At once."

"He's taking a bath."

"I still need to see him."

There was a silence. Gisburne stared at the servant, who hesitated, then shrugged and moved aside to let him pass.

The Sheriff was indeed in his bath, and he looked slightly bored. On a stool nearby, there was a bowl full of fruits, and de Rainault nibbled from time to time a grape. He raised his head when he heard Gisburne enter, and raised an eyebrow.

"You look awful", he commented.

Somewhat throw off balance, the steward blinked. "Hum, yes. I... my lord... that is..."

"Don't stammer !" de Rainault barked with his usual kindness.

Gisburne lowered his head, embarrassed and reluctant to confess that he had been unable to prevent Robin Hood's escape. He was going to look like a fool...

"You have dried blood on your neck. I'm beginning to think you are the one who should be taking a bath, Gisburne."

The steward grimaced. "I have bad news, my lord."

He was looking down, but he almost felt physically the Sheriff's stare boring a hole through him, then he heard a sigh and the sound of dripping water.

"Well ? Speak, man ! Do you think I have nothing better to do than wait for your goodwill ?"

"Robinhoodescaped", Gisburned mumbled as quickly as he could, anxious to get rid of the chore.

"What ? Don't mutter ! For the love of Christ, what's with you this morning ?!"

"Robin Hood... escaped", the steward forced himself to say intelligibly.

He hardly dodged a shower of grapes, and did not dodge a splash of water that let his tunic dripping with water. When he dared to raise his eyes, he saw de Rainault's glare.

"You incompetent oaf !"

"Well, I..." Gisburne began, to defend himself, then gave up.

"I should have known you would not manage something as simple as keeping one unarmed man in a cell !"

The steward recoiled prudently, not keen on being attacked with flying grapes again.

"My lord, I..."

"Out of my sight !" de Rainault barked in answer.

Judging more careful to comply, and keep away from the Sheriff for a while, Gisburne did not need to be told twice.

* * *

The rest of the day was going to be eminently unpleasant, the steward thought, as he followed the Sheriff to the King's antechamber. Some time after he had dismissed Gisburne, de Rainault had changed his mind and sent for him. Naturally, if he had been willing to tell the King himself about the capture of Robin Hood, he would much rather to have his steward nearby while he told John about the outlaw's escape. Well, Gisburne would have done the same thing. But that did not make him any more anxious to speak to the King.

They stopped at the door and waited for the herald to announce them. When they entered, Gisburne saw that all the earls were present. Oh, that was just great ! The steward bit his lip. Now, they even had an audience. And to top it all, the King did not appear to be in the best of moods.

Huntingdon was looking at him, and Gisburne crossed his glance before averting his eyes. Should he charge the earl ? He could blame the whole affair on him, thus clearing himself. On the other hand, if he said nothing, there was a chance Huntingdon would keep his word - even if Gisburne had not technically accepted his conditions. He still hated the man, but an earldom was worth it. After all, it was not the first time he incurred the King's wrath ; once more would change little. And if he had Huntingdon's protection... naturally, the earl was not in favour, but it was still better than nothing.

"My lord", de Rainault began, obviously not trusting Gisburne to speak intelligibly, "I am sorry to tell you that Robin Hood escaped."

The Sheriff's voice remained steady as he spoke, and he showed no fear. The man had his faults, like everybody else - perhaps more than everybody else - but Gisburne had to give him that, he was brave. In the abbey, when he had faced his own death, de Rainault had behaved similarly, showing no fear - just contempt. And Gisburne had felt ashamed when he had seen that, because he had always thought he was more of a fighter than the Sheriff, and he had just been proven wrong. Because he, for one, had been afraid when he had confronted to his own death.

The reaction of the King was somewhat akin to the Sheriff's, only he shouted louder. Gisburne winced ; it made his head hurt more. However, his experience with de Rainault had taught him that it was better to let the matter be yelled off. Gisburne listened distractedly to the list of all the qualities he and de Rainault lacked, while trying to quell the stabbing pain in his head.

"...a disgrace to the Kingdom..."

The steward shared a glance with de Rainault, who had a small, imperceptible shrug, and Gisburne bit back a smile. However, when the earl of Derby asked the permission to speak, the knight lost all desire to smile.

"Yes, yes, certainly you may speak", King John said impatiently, true to his sour temper.

"My liege", the earl began, "I feel it is my duty to tell you that three men in this room committed high treason."

Taken aback, Gisburne stared at the man. What was he talking about ? He hoped it had nothing to do with him, but he suspected it was very unlikely.

"High treason ?" At the very least, Derby had caught the King's attention. "Go on."

"My liege, my daughter has been witness last night of some... strange events, that have to do with Robin Hood's escape. She told me everything. She was very upset, naturally, and I let her in her room to get some rest. If I may, I will speak on her behalf to tell you what she saw."

"Well continue ! Don't make me prompt you every five minutes !"

The earl bowed deeply. "I apologize, my liege. As I was saying, last night my daughter woke up in the middle of the night after she made a nightmare, and she felt the need to take a walk to calm down before she went back to sleep. Naturally, she should not have left her room on her own, but..." he shrugged, then saw that the King was getting impatient again and hastily went on. "Anyway, she heard some people speaking, and found it weird to find people awake at that time of the night. She was afraid it might be thieves. She is young and has a lot of imagination, I'm afraid." Derby had a nervous laugh and continued. "So naturally, Aceline hid herself behind a tapestry. She saw four people ; one of them was Robin Hood - she heard him being called that. The three others were..." the earl voluntarily kept some suspense before he announced theatrically, "David of Huntingdon, Robert de Rainault and Guy of Gisburne !"

The King's face was taking an interesting colour, and the Sheriff's own complexion was matching beginning to match it. Gisburne felt his face turn livid, and curiously felt no longer the pain in his head. He was too astonished by what he had heard. And who had invented this stupidity about the Sheriff ? As far as he knew, de Rainault had spent the whole night in his bed, sleeping blissfully. He for one was quite certain he had not met him that night.

"I see", the King hissed, his features contorted in rage. "And I thank you, Derby, for informing me of this treason." He glared disbelievingly at the three men who had just been accused. "How you would even dare..." he began. "I... I will..."

As usual when he was in a fit of anger, he began to shake violently, and several of the earls tried to attend him. He pushed them away impatiently, but that was all the diversion Gisburne needed. He had heard enough to know King John would not be easily convinced that it was all lies. And the King was more than likely to hand the Sheriff, Huntingdon and himself before they had time to exonerate themselves. The steward grabbed de Rainault's hand and kicked the door open, before taking a run for freedom.

One question lingered in the back of his mind. How could things have turned so bad in only twelve hours ?


	6. Chapter 6

"Of all the stupid ideas you might have had, Gisburne, this one is definitely the stupidest of all !"

It was the end of the afternoon, and the sky was a dark, ominous grey, although it was not raining. An eerie silence reigned at the edge of the forrest of Sherwood, disturbed only by the angry argument between Robert de Rainault, High Sheriff of Nottingham, and Sir Guy of Gisburne, his steward. No swords had been drawned - so far - but the acrid retorts and scathing replies forwent the use of any weapon. The Sheriff was providing most of the delicate wording, but Gisburne supplied a sulky face that spoke volumes.

"But I should not be surprised, should I ? That's the kind of things that happen when you try to _think_ !"

"I did save both our lives !" the steward protested heatedly. "Would you have preferred the King had us executed before we had even a chance to clear ourselves ?"

"Clear ourselves ?" de Rainault rasped. "I have no idea what you did to get us in such a mess, but I for one never plotted against the King. Or not in the past three months, in any case. I have nothing to clear myself of !"

"That did not seem to be the opinion of the earl of Derby's daughter !" Gisburne snapped back.

The comment made the Sheriff groan, transferring some of his wrath on the girl. "Oh yes, that little minx, if I ever lay my hands on her..." Then he cast his steward a suspicious glance. "And you two seemed to spend a lot of time together lately, did you not ?"

"Oh please !" Gisburne looked skyward. "I danced with her on your orders only ! And..." he paused for a minute. "We are getting off the point, aren't we ?"

De Rainault blinked. "Yes, I do believe we are."

There was an uncertain silence, before the Sheriff resumed in a growl, showing some of his teeth.

"Anyway, not only our escape implied that we were guilty, but of all the places we might have gone to, you had to take us to Sherwood ! At night !"

"At night ?" the steward repeated indignantly. "It's a good two hours before nightfall !"

"Oh, yes ! And what do you suggest we do with these two hours ? Thanks to you, we have nowhere to go !"

"It's the only place where the King won't chase us !"

"What a fantastic idea, Gisburne ! Of course, the King will not chase us here", the Sheriff said in a silky voice, then his face suddenly contorted in anger. "But Robin Hood will ! And I personally don't fancy an arrow going through my throat !"

"Well, as _you _pointed out, we have nowhere else to go !" Gisburne shouted back.

He looked at the dark, naked tree-trunks that bordered the edge of Sherwood, and had a shiver that he tried to pass off as cold-induced. Once again, the memory of what had happened when he had broken the Pagan truce of the Blessing flashed through his mind. He was dreadfully afraid of the forrest, but he would die rather than show it. Especially in front of the Sheriff. Glancing at de Rainault, he saw that he too was looking unhappily at the forrest.

"We'd better go on foot and take the horses behind us", the knight added, then put words to deed and made for the forrest.

De Rainault stayed behind at first, taken aback by the turn of events. Then he realized that he was being left alone, near sunset, and not far from Sherwood. The forrest was rumoured haunted - which did not bother him the slightest, since he did not believe in all those Pagan stupidities - but he was also keenly aware that there were wolves in the vicinity, and he did not care for the beasts to see what a Sheriff tasted like. Gisburne had his faults, but at least he had a sword. Which was not his case. Reluctantly, he followed his steward towards the forrest, clutching nervously at his horse's bridle.

"If anything happens, I'm blaming it all on _you_, Gisburne", he muttered to himself.

He looked around him. It had been quite some time since he had last dared to go into Sherwood. Not that he was afraid, naturally - the lord High Sheriff of Nottingham was not, by any means, frightened by a forrest. But he knew Robin Hood held this place, and he was not reckless or stupid enough to venture there without a good reason. There was no honour in being taken hostage, robbed and ransomed, or whatever it was Robin Hood would do to the Sheriff if he could.

As he strode to catch up with Gisburne, de Rainault cast a glance around him. For some reason, he could not shake off the feeling that he was being watched - as if the forrest had eyes.

* * *

As it was, the forrest actually did have eyes, sort of. Safely hidden behind the thick foliage of a tree, a boy had been watching the altercation between Gisburne and the Sheriff, and was now looking at them with concern, as de Rainault walked quickly to catch up with his steward. The Sheriff's eyes darted around, and Much recoiled slightly, even though he knew he was nigh to invisible with his leaf-coloured clothes. But what could the two most hated men of Nottinghamshire be doing in Sherwood - on their own ?

Much regretted that he had not been close enough to hear what the two men had been saying. He had caught a few stray words, and it had been obvious that the Sheriff was yelling at Gisburne, but that was nothing new. He would have been so proud to get back to camp and be able to give Robin all the information about the Sheriff's motives. That would sure have impressed the leader, would it not ? It would have made Much feel better, in any case.

Sometimes, he felt like he was more of a burden than anything else. After all, he had no special ability, and was little help to the others. He was not as strong as John, he did not have a soldier's training like Will, he could not aim as well as Robin, he did not even have a bright mind like Marion. And he could not cook like Tuck. At first, he had managed to overlook it, but the more time passed, the more uneasy he felt. And now, he had missed a golden opportunity to spy on the Sheriff's discussion with Gisburne... perhaps he could follow the two and spy on them some time longer, to gather more information ? Then again, Robin would want to know about their presence in Sherwood at once...

With a sigh, the boy resigned himself to doing the most sensible thing, and he headed back to camp. De Rainault and Gisburne did not seem to be in a talkative mood, anyway. Five minutes later, he jumped down a tree branch in the clearing where they had set camp, interrupting without realizing it an uncomfortable silence.

"Gisburne and the Sheriff..." he gasped, slightly out of breath. "They're here, in Sherwood !"

He had caught their attention ; Will had a savage grin, while Robin stopped immediately to cast sidelong glances at Marion in favour to jumping to his feet. "Chasing us, no doubt", he said darkly. "I'm surprised they dared to enter the forrest, though. They should know by now that it's ours. How many men do they have ?"

Much opened his mouth, then closed it. Come to think of it... "Well... none."

Everybody stared at him, even Marion, who so far had been trying her best to remain aside.

"None ?" Robin repeated in astonishment. "What do you mean, none ?"

"I mean, _none _!" Much snapped back, somewhat annoyed at the leader. "I know I'm not the brightest here, but I still know how to count !"

Robin appeared a little pained. "Much, I did not mean it like that..."

The boy dismissed the matter with a shrug. He wanted people to take him seriously - he was not a child anymore, and hardly younger than Robin himself. In spite of him, he felt the bitter taste of misunderstanding in his mouth, but he chose to ignore it. "Anyway, as I said, they're in Sherwood. Alone."

"Robin." That was Will, and he looked very serious. Too serious. "This time, we must end it. Such an occasion... Killing them --"

"Killing them will change nothing", the leader interrupted harshly. "There will be another Sheriff, and another steward, and everything will be the same. Or even worse. Remember Philip Mark ?"

"So we do nothin', eh ?" Will snarled, his patience obviously running short. "We let them take a stroll in Sherwood and that's it ?"

"I never said that", Robin replied with a tight smile. "Gentlemen, milady, we're going to catch ourselves a Sheriff and a steward."

* * *

In all the time Robin Hood had made de Rainault's life miserable, which amounted now to four years or so, the Sheriff had never thought about how harsh the outlaw's life could be, especially in the winter. Whenever he did think of Robin Hood, which he tried not to, it was only to dream of a public hanging. However, as he walked deeper into Sherwood with the sole company of Gisburne, his feet sinking into dirt and fallen leaves, shivering in the cold evening, for the first time the thought entered his mind that this bloody forrest was no place to live in.

"Care to remind me where we are going ?" he asked Gisburne, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The taller man shrugged. "Looking for a place to spend the night. Unless you'd rather stay here."

De Rainault frowned ; it was not like his steward to defy him - not openly. When he got his title back, he would have to remind him who was the master. But for the moment, unfortunately, the Sheriff might need him more than the contrary.

He thought back of their escape, and he wondered why in the world had the steward bothered to take him along. He would have expected Gisburne to save his own hide and not care about anyone else - that was what _he _would have done, after all. Did the steward plan to use him ? And if so, how ? And why did he have this persistent impression that there was _something _Gisburne was not telling him ?

"I'm surprised we haven't run into Robin Hood yet", de Rainault muttered half for himself.

Gisburne shrugged. "Sherwood is vast. He's only a man, he doesn't have eyes everywhere."

"I know that !" the Sheriff hissed pointedly. "Yet you managed to run into him each and everytime you entered the forrest in the past four years, did you not ?"

The steward's back stiffened ever so slightly, showing that de Rainault had struck a nerve. That was some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to make him forget his cold feet and empty stomach. And naturally, they had nothing to eat. Why could Gisburne not have planned his escape a bit more carefully, he thought with comforting unfairness.

"That was not the same thing", Gisburne protested half-heartedly. "He ambushed us."

He did not sound very vehement about his own defense. Probably, the hard day and the long walk was taking its toll on him too. Also, the Sheriff noticed, Gisburne was looking at the trees every so often, as though he expected them to start moving, or someone to appear from behind them. Well, de Rainault could hardly blame him, seeing everything that had happened in this thrice damned forrest in the past years.

Suddenly, there was a ruffle of leaves and branches, and Robin Hood came into view, barely ten steps from the two fugitives. Their reaction was immediate ; Gisburne closed his fingers around the hilt of his sword. The Sheriff tried to do the same then remembered that he was not carrying any. Just a ridiculously short dagger, that would be little help against the outlaw.

"Lord Wolfshead !" Gisburne hissed.

De Rainault wished he would stop giving the outlaw a title. He knew it was just a way for his steward to acknowledge the fact that Robin Hood had noble blood, but in the Sheriff's opinion, that was not relevant. Robin Hood had given up everything, including his name and his title, when he had chosen to defy the King's rule. Even if said title, in Gisburne's mouth, was more of a jest than anything else.

"Hello, Sheriff", Robin replied with a small bow.

The Sheriff in question wished the outlaw would not be so polite. It would make him feel much better if the outlaw was just a boorish peasant, but much of his upbringing as an earl's son showed in his behaviour, up to his manner of speaking. He had the elegant, cultivated accent of a nobleman. The Sheriff hated it - he hated everything that made Robin Hood, but he forced himself in a calm demeanour and nodded back, although very curtly. No one would say that he did not have better manners than mere outlaws.

"I am sorry to interrupt your... evening stroll in the forrest", Robin pursued with an ironic smile, "but you seem to have lost your escort."

Hissing in anger, de Rainault tightened his fingers around the handle of his dagger. He would not have this... this... this petty robber speak to him like this. But then, the thought came to his mind that Robin Hood might just be the key to retrieving the favours of the King. Relaxing slightly, he took a step towards Gisburne.

"What are you waiting for to catch him ?!" he whispered angrily.

The steward glanced at him, his sword unsheathed but loose in his hand. "I don't think he's alone", he murmured back.

"If you're thinking of trying anything, you ought to reconsider", the outlaw advised. "There are half a dozen arrows pointed at you two - that makes three for each of you, in case you have trouble counting that far. And you already know we can aim, don't you ?"

His tone of voice was deceivingly pleasant, but his eyes were steely, and although Robin Hood appeared relaxed, his bow, quiver and sword were in easy reach.

"You're bluffing", de Rainault said with a defying glare.

"Am I ?" Robin Hood smiled, then called, "Little John, would you be so kind as to show his Lordship the High Sheriff that I'm not bluffing ?"

Almost immediately, an arrow wheezed past the Sheriff's nose, so close that he almost felt the fletching tickle him. He stared as the head of the arrow embedded itself in the nearest tree and remained there, still shuddering from the impact. This one had been frighteningly close.

"What do you want ?" the Sheriff finally asked, since there seemed to be little they could do.

"Your surrender", Robin replied. "Lay down your arms, and you have my word we won't kill you."

"The word of a wolfshead ?!" Gisburne snarled, and de Rainault sighed in annoyance. His steward still had this tendency of speaking before thinking - when he bothered to think at all.

"Shut up, Gisburne", he murmured with the bored look of someone tired to repeat the same thing over and over again. He kept his voice low enough for Robin Hood not to hear, though. Louder, he continued for the outlaw's benefit, ignoring his steward's somewhat offended look. "Considering that we would be willing to accept, what then ?"

"You'll be our prisoners, and later I'll decide what to do with you."

Swearing inwardly, de Rainault weighed up his options. The problem was, there did not seem to be many of them. He had little doubt Robin Hood was telling the truth when he mentioned the six arrows pointed on the two of them, and that meant they were at his mercy. The Sheriff was in no mood to die heroically that evening, so he decided there was only one sensible thing to do. It was deeply humiliating, and he would never live it down, but if the alternative was death... he sighed in frustration. This might not be the worst day of his life, but it felt like it.

"Fine", he said dispiritedly. "We accept your terms."

"My lord !" Gisburne protested.

"Oh, shut up !" de Rainault growled. That was hard enough without the steward making a fuss. "Just give him your sword."

Scowling, Gisburne opened his hand and let his sword drop to the ground with obvious displeasure.

"Your dagger too, if you please", Robin said, and Gisburne's dagger rejoined the sword down on the ground. "And the Sheriff's."

As if such a little blade would have been any use, de Rainault thought as he unsheathed his weapon and let it down.

"Good !" the outlaw said, his cheerfulness contrasting with the glumness of his two prisoners. "All right men, come out now !"

About a half-dozen ragged men came out from their hideouts. No, a boy was amongst them - the half-wit. And a woman that de Rainault recognized all too well, Marion... she had been more trouble than she was worth, he judged. Actually, he wished he had never set his eyes on her. And naturally, Friar Tuck, that fat traitor... the Sheriff gave the small group a distasteful glare.

"What do we do with them, now ?" asked one who was poorly shaved.

"Tie 'em up", his leader replied. "We are taking them with us."

The poorly shaved man snorted but complied, and took a long, thin rope that it seemed they had brought especially for their prisoners. Something in this man made de Rainault uncomfortable. Something in his eyes, in particular. There seemed to be a gleam of insanity that glittered every now and then, but in particular when he set his eyes on the two prisoners, and the Sheriff did not like it one bit. He felt that man was dangerous and uncontrolable, and he would rather not have him anywhere close to him.

Both he and Gisburne went through the humiliating process of being tied up, none too gently. The rope was too tight, but de Rainault had little doubt that had been done on purpose, and these outlaws would not hear him ask for anything. He pursed his lips and ignored the minor pain in his wrists.

"Let's get back to camp, now", Robin ordered. "Much, bring their horses."

Mutters of agreement answered him, and the two prisoners were pushed harshly forward. They began to walk tamely, but the man with the insane eyes gripped de Rainault's shoulder and leant closer. The Sheriff smelt with distaste his breathe - there would be a few things to say about the outlaws personal hygiene.

"You be nice, now", the man said with a nasty grin and the most terrible Saxon accent de Rainault had ever heard. "Give me just one reason to slit your throat and I'll be glad to oblige, your lordship."

In the man's mouth, the title became an insult, but it would take more than that to intimidate the Sheriff. He looked back at the man with steely eyes. "Takes your filthy hands off me", he ordered calmly, his voice dripping in contempt.

"You..." the outlaw hissed, raising a hand.

"Will ! Enough !" Robin Hood had witnessed the scene, and put a stop to it before it became bloody. The one named Will hesitated slightly, then lowered his fist with obvious regret.

"You're going to regret it, if you let them live", he told his leader.

Robin betrayed nothing of his inner thoughts. "I gave them my word, Will."

"Look, if there's one think I learnt during my soldiering days, that's that you should never leave your enemies alive behind you, because they'll stab you in the back at the first opportunity !"

"That may be so. But I still gave them my word. Will, we already talked about this. That's enough, now !"

For the first time, Robin Hood was displaying his leadership in front of the Sheriff. Interestingly, Will backed down immediately. The man had a quick temper, de Rainault thought, and he archived the information in his mind. He would find a way to use it, if given the occasion.

The walk continued, with no more interruptions. The Sheriff felt miserable, but was not about to give the outlaws the pleasure to see it, so he kept walking without a sound. Now the rope was biting into his wrists, being too damn thin. Fortunately, the camp was no much further. It was actually a cave, pleasantly dry. The friar quickly revived the fire, and soon joyous flames began to devour the wood. There seemed to be a reserve of firewood deeper in the cave, which proved that the outlaws had been using it often. It was no surprise ; there were probably not many dry places in Sherwood, for it had eventually begun to rain about five minutes before the group attained the cave.

The giant - Little John or something like that, what a ridiculous name anyway - took the prisoners a bit further, and had them sit down, then tied them back to back. Then he rejoined the others who had begun to talk quietly around the fire. De Rainault glared at them, and shivered again in his wet clothes.

"The idiot bound us together", he murmured to Gisburne. "Can you untie us ?"

The steward began to squirm, and kept trying for several minutes before he finally gave up. "No, can't reach the knots", he whispered back.

The Sheriff sword, and looked around for something they could use, anything. Then, he felt stones under his fingers. They were not very big - although their little sisters took a wicked pleasure in making the ground quite uncomfortable to be sitting on - but perhaps they would be enough to damage the rope. De Rainault gave it a try, but he quickly had to give up ; all he managed was to hurt his wrists some more.

Robin Hood put an end to these pathetic attempts when he rose from his place by the fire to come to face his prisoners. The outlaw sat down in front of them to be at the same height, and he looked seriously at the Sheriff and Gisburne.

"Now, my lords, I think it is time you give us some answers."

The other outlaws had fallen silent, eyes set on the three men apart.

"Answers to _you _?" Gisburne spat in distaste.

"Now, now", Robin replied nonchalontly. "Don't be hasty. You see, my friend here..." he motioned at Will, "he doesn't like you very much, as you already noticed. And if you refuse to speak, I'm not sure I'll manage to restrain him."

It had to be one of the oldest tricks used when interrogating people ; pretending to be nice and friendly, while another man played the part of the sadist, de Rainault thought with disdain. He did not fear torture, but he did not think Robin Hood would have the stomach to actually torture them.

As he kept silent, Robin Hood had a theatrical sigh and turned to Will. "Well, which one do you want to torture first ?"

The other man rose to his feet and began to walk around the prisoners, like a vulture about to pounce on its prey. He looked at them nastily, making the Sheriff's certainty waver ; was it truly an act ?

"I don't know..." Will said thoughtfully. "Perhaps dear ol' Gisburne, eh ? He's too stubborn for his own good. But the Sheriff would be good fun too."

Robin Hood looked at de Rainault, falsely sorry. "You really should talk, you know."

The Sheriff pursed his lips, and glared, and kept silent, mutely daring the outlaw leader to fulfil his threat.

"I must say in their defence", Tuck interrupted, "that you haven't actually asked them any question yet."

"Oh..." Robin slapped his forehead. "How could I be so careless ! Right, then... hum. What do we want to know ?"

"Why they were in the forrest all alone", Little John supplied. "For starters."

"Ah - that's right, thank you", Robin grinned. "So, hum, you heard the question. Well, and your answer... ?"

"It's none of your business", Gisburne muttered.

"Hey, that's not nice", Will commented with a feral smile. He waved his dagger under the steward's nose, but got little reaction, apart from a few profanities.

"Enough, now", Robin finally called. "We'll speak again come morning, Sheriff. And this time I hope, for your sake, that you will have a little more to say to us."

De Rainault's sole reply was a mirthless smile that showed much more of his teeth than it ought to. The outlaws went back to the fire and resumed their quiet conversation. A little later, the giant came with two bowls of food.

"Bet you're hungry", he said with more courtesy than the Sheriff would have expected. "I'll untie your hand, one after the other, so you can eat, but don't even think of trying to escape..."

Eyeing suspiciously the steaming stew in the two bowls, de Rainault frowned. "What is that ?" he asked.

"Why, venison of course", Little John said, laughing up his sleeve.

The Sheriff hesitated. He was hungry, having not eaten since morning, and he certainly would not feel guilty eating some of the King's deer, seeing how said King had treated him lately. The problem was, if he ate poached meat, it would belittle him to the outlaws' level. He did not have lost all hopes of getting his position back, and as long as that was the case, he would behave as a Sheriff would. Hiding his hunger, he shook his head with his best sneer.

"I won't eat poached venison", he said curtly, contempt obvious in his voice.

A mere shrug answered him. "As you wish. Pity. It's great cooking." Little John grinned and took a bite, chewing happily in front of the two prisoners. "Sure you won't have some ? Gisburne ? No ? Well, so much the worse."

And he got back to the fire. De Rainault sighed and tried to find a more comfortable position, which was not easy. It was getting darker and darker, outside. The night fell early, in the winter.

The situation was not brilliant, but there had to be something the Sheriff could do to bring the odds back in his favour. Technically, he was now the King's enemy, and as the old saying had it, the enemy of one's enemy was one's friend. Well, perhaps not so much as a friend, but possibly an ally ? But an ally to do what ? His and Robin Hood's aims were too divergent... Besides, he wanted to get the King's favour back, and he could hardly imagine Robin Hood being any help, except as a prisoner. Which was not likely to happen in the next few days.

He had to clear his name - and incidentally, Gisburne's. As for Huntingdon, he could rot in jail forever for all the Sheriff ca... Wait. Huntingdon. That was Robin's father, was it not ? He had been accused as well - and had been left behind. Trust King John to have him condemned to the axe, earl or not. The King was paranoiac, and had obviously believed Derby's ludicrous accusation. Knowing Robin Hood, he was probably disgustingly protective of his father, and he would want to protect him. In the end, perhaps they could reach an agreement... clearing Huntingdon meant to clear de Rainault and Gisburne as well. It was with this tiny flicker of hope that de Rainault eventually drifted to sleep.

* * *

The night had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Gisburne was still wondering how any of the others had managed to sleep through Little John's snoring, and he was beginning to have awful cramps in his arms. The Sheriff was probably in the same situation, but not a word of complaint had come through his lips, and the steward had to grant him his grudging amiration.

At least, this time they were fed - and not with venison. The renegade - Tuck - had shown up with two bowls of fish. To the prisoners' obvious surprised, he had answered with some indignation that they might be outlaws but they did not starve their prisoners. The fish was lukewarm, overcooked on one side and nearly raw on the other, with plenty of fishbones, but it was food, and Gisburne was hungry enough to eat without a complaint. Tuck had freed his and the Sheriff's hands, but both men were still tied back to back at the waist, and their feet were bound as well, so there had been no opportunity to seize.

At some point during the meal, the Saracen, Nasir, had appeared in the cave seemingly out of thin air, and only then did Gisburne realize that he had not seen him the past evening. The heretic reported to Robin Hood, then joined the others to eat breakfast. When everybody was done eating, Robin Hood came near the two prisoners, as he had the day before.

"Are you ready to talk ?" he asked. "Or do I have to let Will explain to you in details why he doesn't like you ?"

Gisburne gave him his best glare, but the effect was completely wasted when the Sheriff said, "I'll tell you what you want to know."

The steward was not the only one to be astonished, judging from the outlaws' bewildered glances. Robin Hood blinked for a moment, having not anticipated such a quick surrender, but quickly got a grip on himself and nodded.

"I see you're reasonable. So, tell me why you were on your own in the forrest ?"

The answer came immediately and without an hesitation. "To escape from the King."

A frown betrayed Robin Hood's confusion. "Why would you escape from the King ?"

"I have been accused of treason", the Sheriff admitted.

Incredulous grins broke on the outlaws' faces, but they quickly vanished when de Rainault finished his sentence.

"...as was Gisburne, and as was the earl of Huntingdon."

A complete silence followed. Then Will Scarlet shook his head. "He's lying, Robin. He has to. I mean, your father can't have been accused... unless..." he directed his glare on Gisburne, who suddenly felt more uncomfortable than ever. The lord wolfshead looked at him, too, and very dangerously.

"I'm not responsible for that !" the steward protested. "I don't understand anything of this ridiculous accusation, to begin with..."

"Alright, alright", Robin Hood cut him. "Perhaps it would be best if you explained everything that happened since the earls and the King arrived in Nottingham, Sheriff."

Gisburne felt the Sheriff shrug against his back. "There isn't much to tell. We greeted them, they began to have reunions with the King every morning. Then you were caught", he looked at Robin, "and the next morning you fled. When I... _we _told the King about it, the earl of Derby said that his daughter had seen the four of us together that night. You, I, Gisburne and Huntingdon. He accused the three of us to having helped you to escape and he implied we plotted against the crown. The King believed him, and Gisburne and I managed to escape before he had us killed. That's all I know about it."

That summary was a wonder of brevity and concision, no doubt, but the lord Wolfshead did not seem to like what he had heard. His eyes blazing, he looked hard at both his prisoners. "_You _escaped. But I gather my father didn't, did he ?" He stared accusingly at Gisburne, who gave him a dirty look.

"That's his problem", the steward replied scathingly. "Huntingdon can rot in jail for all I care !"

is vehemence surprised everybody, Gisburne included, but he still gazed defiantly at Robin Hood. He refused to think of him as his brother. The lord wolfshead looked about to strike his prisoner, but then a pained expression passed on his face and with an effort he unclenched his fists. When he spoke, his voice was deceivingly calm.

"What about you, then, Gisburne ? Did you hear anything that might explain why you were all accused ?"

The steward skimmed through through his memories. He had avoided the earls as much as possible, so he did not have much to say.

"No", he finally said. "I remember the earl of Leicester expressed concern that you might escape, but nothing more."

"You spoke with Leicester ?" de Rainault growled.

"I just met him on the battlements !" Gisburne justified himself.

"I see..." the lord wolfshead murmured. He seemed to be at a loss to know what to do. Gisburne did not blame him ; he was not quite certain he knew what to do either. But the Sheriff did.

"Robin Hood, I have a deal to offer you", he said.

"Don't listen to him, Robin !" Will hissed, but his leader ignored him and looked at his prisoner with mild curiosity.

"And what would that be ?"

"You want to exonerate your father", de Rainault explained. "We want the same. As long as your father is proven innocent, so are we. I think it is possible to reach an agreement."

Robin began to rub his chin thoughtfully, and Gisburne watched him in fascination. The Sheriff had had an interesting idea - not that he would ever tell him that. The steward disliked deeply the very idea of working with outlaws, but if there was a way to get out of this mess... He almost smiled. Trust the Sheriff to find a way to find the most unlikely allies. De Rainault was quite good at getting the best of any situation he was in, a skill that the steward envied.

"I'll think about it", the lord wolfshead finally said.

* * *

The morning went by slowly and boringly. The two prisoners were mostly ignored by the outlaws, with the exception of Will Scarlet, who seemed to despise them the most and kept throwing the two men dark looks. His hatred seemed to consume him, and Gisburne began to wonder what dark secrets tainted the man's past to leave him in such a state. Once or twice, as they crossed eyes, he had felt as though Scarlet was on the verge of insanity. Gisburne had seen that same look before, in the eyes of men who lived solely for revenge or for fighting. The steward was by no means easily intimidated, but that outlaw left him always ill-at-ease. Unnerved and irritated, he did his best to ignore Scarlet pointedly.

A moment later, the lord wolfshead came close to the prisoners and stopped just in front of Gisburne. The steward looked at him, hating the fact that he had to raise his eyes to do so. Usually, his considerable height allowed him to look down on people, and he was not used to the other way round. Yet, Robin remained silent, and after a few minutes that dumbness began to get on Gisburne's nerves. He glared at the outlaw leader, who calmly looked back. The steward eventually tired of the "glare at each other" game, and let out an irritated hiss.

"What is it you want, Wolfshead ?" he finally snapped, when Robin still not reacted.

"I need to speak with you..."

A faint feeling of dread, a dark premonition crept down the steward's spine. He was not certain what the outlaw wanted to talk to him about - although he did have a vague supposition - but he was sure that he would not like it.

"Well, _I _don't want to speak with you", he said coldly, but he knew it was useless. Robin Hood had them in his power.

"Unfortunately for you, Gisburne, I don't care what you want", the outlaw replied just as the steward had expected, but with more harshness than anticipated. "Tuck, untie him. Little John, keep an eye on the Sheriff. Will, if Gisburne tries anything, you can shoot him."

That was the first time Gisburne saw Robin Hood display such cold, restrained anger. It was not obvious, but he could see it - the fists tightly clenched, the emotionless voice... - and he knew it was a bad omen for him. The rope fell around him when the renegade cut it, and Gisburne slowly rose to his feet, aware that he had now choice. He felt the Sheriff's eyes boring holes in him, but he did not look back at his employer.


	7. Chapter 7

The morning went by slowly and boringly. The two prisoners were mostly ignored by the outlaws, with the exception of Will Scarlet, who appeared to despise them the most and kept throwing the two men dark looks. His hatred seemed to consume him, and Gisburne began to wonder what dark secrets tainted the man's past to leave him in such a state. Once or twice, as they crossed eyes, he had felt as though Scarlet was on the verge of insanity. Gisburne had seen that same look before, in the eyes of men who lived solely for revenge or for fighting. The steward was by no means easily intimidated, but that outlaw left him always ill-at-ease. Unnerved and irritated, he did his best to ignore Scarlet pointedly.

A moment later, the lord wolfshead came close to the prisoners and stopped just in front of Gisburne. The steward looked at him, hating the fact that he had to raise his eyes to do so. Usually, his considerable height allowed him to look down on people, and he was not used to the other way round. Yet, Robin remained silent, and after a few minutes that dumbness began to get on Gisburne's nerves. He glared at the outlaw leader, who calmly looked back. The steward eventually tired of the "glare at each other" game, and let out an irritated hiss.

"What is it you want, Wolfshead ?" he finally snapped, when Robin still did not react.

"I need to speak with you..."

A faint feeling of dread, a dark premonition crept down the steward's spine. He was not certain what the outlaw wanted to talk to him about - although he did have a vague supposition - but he was sure that he would not like it.

"Well, _I _don't want to speak with you", he said coldly, but he knew it was useless. Robin Hood had he and the Sheriff in his power.

"Unfortunately for you, Gisburne, I don't care what you want", the outlaw replied just as the steward had expected, but with more harshness than anticipated. "Tuck, untie him. Little John, keep an eye on the Sheriff. Will, if Gisburne tries anything, you can shoot him."

That was the first time Gisburne saw Robin Hood display such cold, restrained anger. It was not obvious, but he could see it - the fists tightly clenched, the emotionless voice... - and he knew it was a bad omen for him. The rope fell around him when the renegade cut it, and Gisburne slowly rose to his feet, aware that he had now choice. He felt the Sheriff's eyes boring holes in him, but he did not look back at his employer as he followed Robin Hood, out of hearing range. Obviously, whatever it was the leader outlaw wanted to discuss, it was to remain private - not that Gisburne would complain about that.

Sensation began to creep back in the steward's limbs, and he felt as though thin needles pierced his skin. He let none of this unpleasantness show on his features, however, and waited for Robin Hood to begin. If the lord wolfshead was going to complain about something, Gisburne certainly was not going to make it easy for him. For a little while, Robin Hood seemed to consider what he was going to say, then he began to speak in a low, hard voice.

"Was it a way to take revenge on me, Gisburne ?"

The steward blinked, genuinely confused. "Was _what _a way to take revenge on you ?"

"Don't play dumb", Robin Hood hissed through gritted teeth. "I don't find it amusing. Why did you leave my father behind ? Instead, you saved _him _!" The outlaw gestured vehemently towards the Sheriff, eyes full of disgust.

Taken by surprise, Gisburne stared at the other man for a moment, unable to think. Then his brain resumed working and he glanced at the Sheriff as though considering the idea for the first time. He had not though - had not had _time _to think - when he had escaped. Taking De Rainault along had just seemed like the thing to do at the moment - not that he would tell Robin Hood that. The steward hesitated, then shrugged.

"He was closer to me", he said, then looked at the lord outlaw, moved by a burning desire to hurt him as the other had hurt him. "And he is more useful to me to get my position back", Gisburne spat wickedly. "Huntingdon is nothing to me, Wolfshead. When will you get that in your thick head ?!"

"Doesn't he represent an earldom to you ?" Robin retorted bitterly, but Gisburne merely sniggered.

"As if he would have given it to me after you were freed..."

"He gave you his word !" The outlaw looked at Gisburne with contempt. "But that means nothing to you, I suppose."

"Don't tell _me _about honour, Wolfshead !" the steward snarled in fury.

But the leader outlaw shrugged, unmoved. "Anyway, even if out father's word was not enough, you witnessed his treason. You could have blackmailed him, he would have had no choice but to give you what you demanded."

Gisburne had a low, bitter laugh. "What kind of world do you live in, lord wolfshead ? That would have been my word against his. Who would have believed a mere _knight _? But it's only normal you would not have thought of that tiny little detail, isn't it ? After you grew up getting everything you wanted. All you had to do was demand it."

"Is that what you think ?" Robin enquired calmly. "Then you are sorely mistaken, _brother._ Rank is a double-edged sword. You have no idea what the price to pay is, do you ? You would probably make a very poor earl, you know", he continued, ignoring Gisburne's glare, full of hatred. "An earl's duty is to protect, at the price of his own life if need be ! An earl's role is to _care _for his people. Do you even know the meaning of that word ?"

"Care for his _people _?" the steward sneered. "What about his _son _then ? Don't give me lectures about duty !"

Taken off-guard, Robin Hood took a step backward, and for a split second he looked truly sorry. But quickly enough, he steadied himself and regained his composure - so quickly in fact that Gibsurne wondered whether it had been just an act. Robin Hood was obviously good at deceiving people, after all...

"I thought that even you would understand such simple things as the most basic decency", the outlaw said slowly. "Obviously, I was mistaken. Yet, unfortunately, the Sheriff is right - I might need your help to save our father. Or shall I say _my _father, since you seem so intent on forgetting what relation you have to him."

Gisburne was sorely tempted to point out that the earl had been the one to betray him first, but even in his state of anger he realized how childish that would sound. Instead, he just replied, "say whatever you want. I don't care."

"Thank you so much for your kind authorization", the lord wolfshead ironized, then called out one of his men. "Will, tie him back to the Sheriff, will you ? John, a word..."

Roughly shoved forward by Scarlett, Gisburne heard nothing of the rest of the sentence but a soft mumble. Not that he cared what the outlaw might say. He had thought he hated Robin Hood before, but at this point his feelings for the man were beyond hatred.

"Please try something", Will whispered in his ear. "I would love to slit your throat. Just give me a _reason_."

Not being suicidal, Gisburne kept silent, trusting fully the insane outlaw to be true to his word, but inwardly he thought that the man hardly needed a reason. If not for Robin, he and the Sheriff would probably both be long dead, but the thought did not make him feel grateful - quite the contrary. The steward did not need anyone's pity or mercy, and especially not his brother's.

Seemingly disappointed that Gisburne had behaved, Scarlett nastily pushed the steward to his knees and tied him back to back to the Sheriff, tightening the rope more than was needed, although he did make sure that blood circulation was not entirely stopped. As much of a killer as the outlaw might be, and as much as he might want to see Gisburne suffer, he was not a torturer, even if the steward suspected that Scarlett might just enjoy watching him suffer if given the opportunity.

He wondered why the man hated him and the Sheriff so much. Perhaps he had been punished at some point for breaking the law and blamed them for it... Gisburne could not tell for certain, in his years of service he had seen so many people punished for breaking the law... And no convicted man had ever admitted that it was just the law and that the sentence was fair. Of course, the populace liked the law well enough so long as it protected them, but when it punished them... Yet, they could not just pick which rules they wanted to follow or not, otherwise it would be chaos. Not that they would understand that, but that was hardly surprising ; they were just commoners and serfs.

* * *

When Robin Hood gave orders to speak to Gisburne privately, the Sheriff knew for sure there was something he did not know. He had been suspecting that something was not quite right, but he had not been certain. Now, he could see that there was definitely _something _going on between his steward and the chief outlaw. He watched intently as Gisburne was taken away, out of hearing range, and Robin Hood began to speak, obviously annoyed with the steward - well, that made two of them then, even if the Sheriff loathed to have anything in common with Hood.

The outlaw gestured in the Sheriff's direction, and de Rainault stiffened, vaguely expecting something unpleasant to happen to him. But no, the conversation continued, leaving him burning with curiosity, wondering what had been said about him. From where he was, he could not see Gisburne's face, but he did notice the steward's tense stance, and his clenched fist betraying the man's anger. De Rainault could have screamed with frustration.

One thing was clear - he had to find out what was going on between Gisburne and Robin Hood. Although he had no idea what it was, he confusely suspected that it had to do with his current predicament. Now that he thought of it, his steward had behaved strangely ever since he had come back that night, seriously wonded. At first, the Sheriff had thought it was just because of his humiliation, but now he wondered. _What _had happened, that night ? Gisburne had been made prisoner - how had he escaped ? Had Robin Hood offered him something ? Just what had the steward been up to, behind de Rainault's back ? Had he betrayed him ? Perhaps he had even helped Robin Hood escape ?

Suppositions, deductions, suspicions twirled in the Sheriff's head, leaving him more confused than anything else. Frustrated, he heaved a sigh, and watched as the two men's conversation ended. Scarlett led rather brutally Gisburne back, causing the Sheriff to have a few doubts. Robin Hood certainly was not treating the steward as he would treat an ally... Then again, he probably did not have much more consideration for Gisburne than de Rainault himself had.

After Gisburne was tied again and Scarlett had walked away, the Sheriff cast his fellow-sufferer a side glance. If he asked, he doubted very much the steward would tell him the truth, but even a lie might give him a clue. If the steward tried to mislead, he would at least know what the problem was _not_. Besides, it would seem strange if he kept silent, and he did not want Gisburne to discover that he had suspicions, else the man would be more guarded. Of course, de Rainault could outwit his steward anytime, but why make it harder than necessary ?

"So", he asked with his best casual tone, "what did Robin Hood want with you ?"

Being back to back with him, the Sheriff could not see Gisburne, but he felt the shrug.

"He wanted to ask me things about Huntingdon."

De Rainault arched an eyebrow, even if the effort was wasted since the steward could not see him either. "Hardly a subject one would deem necessary to discuss in secret."

The question was implicit. "Apparently he blames me for not saving Huntingdon", Gisburne replied evenly.

He sounded so convincing that the Sheriff would have been fooled, had he not known better. As it was, he felt a flicker of doubt. Robin Hood obviously had not been happy that his father had been left behind, and it would not be surprising if he blamed Gisburne for that. De Rainault, for one, thought that Huntingdon would just have to take care of himself, like everybody else - conveniently overlooking the fact that he himself probably owed Gisburne his life. That last thought was too unnerving for him to think about it for the moment - and he had other priorities, quite frankly.

Still. He would have to keep an eye on Gisburne. Just in case...

* * *

"Find information, find information..." Much grumbled unhappily as he shuffled his feet along the main street of Nottingham. "What does he think I am, a carrier pigeon ? But of course, when there's boring stuff to do, let's ask Much. He's here for that. No other use for him."

The boy knew perfectly well that he was being unfair, but it made him feel better. Just because he had a friend... well, alright, a _girl_friend, was no reason to send _him _to Nottingham. It was a long walk, and he would have much rathered spent the afternoon fishing in the river or doing some such thing, even if that mission did give him an occasion to see Vivian. The only thing that cheered him really up was that this time, for once, he did not have to dread to possibly run into Gisburne, and the other soldiers did not know his face, so he figured he was pretty safe.

Casting a wistful glance at the morsels of broiled meat and the scones as he walked by several stands, Much finally reached the drawbridge and crossed it. The guards did not cast him a second glance, busy as they were to _inspect _a wine merchant's cart. Much was obviously not the only one taking advantage of Gisburne's absence ; the steward would not have tolerated such behaviour from his men - although he might very well have confiscated one or two kegs for himself. Much had heard enough people joke about the _Gamekeeper's Entrance Fee_ to be sure of that.

Once in the courtyard of the castle, nothing was easier than slip unnoticed in the kitchens while assuming the attitude of someone dreadfully busy. Much pivoted on his feet and eventually located a red mane that could belong to only one person. He crept behind the girl, who was dutifully rubbing crockery clean, and he was about to catch her off-guard, when she calmly spoke.

"If you're trying to scare me to death, that's not working a second time, Much."

He tried his best to look innocent.

"Scare you ? Not at all !"

She turned to face him, eyeing the boy dubiously, and he relented.

"How did you know it was me ?" he asked grudgingly.

Vivian looked at him as though he was mentally impaired. "I'm cleaning up silverware, silly. I saw your reflection. Besides, you made so much noise you could not possibly hope to surprise me. Now, what is it you want ?"

"What makes you think I want something ?" he protested.

She snorted. "Every time you've come to see me, you asked for something. Besides, boys _always _want something, whether it be food or something else."

Much turned a deep red. Not that he was totally innocent, but he was not used to such things being mentioned so casually. He was actually older than Vivian, but each and everytime they were together she made him feel like a retarded little brother.

"As a matter of fact, I do need something", he admitted sheepishly.

She looked heavenwards. "Ha ! I knew it. Well, on with it then ! I can't remain idle for too long, you know."

The girl resumed scrapping her silverware, and Much suddenly thought that he might stand out, being idle in the middle of the kitchens where there was _always _something to do. Hastily, he plunged his hands in the hot water, pretending he was washing up as well.

"You don't have to pretend, you know", Vivian observed caustically.

Taken aback, Much glanced at her. "What ?"

"I mean that since you are here to ask for a favour, you might as well earn it and give me a hand washing this. It dried during the night and it's a nightmare to scrub the grease off silverware."

"But... but I don't know how to..." the boy stammered.

Vivian snorted. "I'm sure you are a fast learner. Aren't you ?"

Feeling it was the safest course of action, Much quickly nodded. "Uh, yeah", he said, trying to sound convincing. But as he was not convinced himself, that made it hard to convince someone else of his goodwill. However, Vivian kept staring until he grabbed the moss that was commonly used to clean the dishes and began to scrub half-heartedly. Once again, he wondered how it was that he enjoyed the company of such a scary girl. But then, he had never been very clever, had he ? So it made sense.

"So, what was it you wanted to know ?" Vivian asked after a few minutes.

"To know ? Oh, right. Have you heard anything about the Sheriff and Gisburne ?"

Only silence answered him at first, and Much crept a glance towards his friend. She was staring at him in disbelief, then burst out laughing. "Oh... heaven", she choked. "I mean, _that_ 's what you've come to ask ? It's all over the town ! What are you, deaf ?"

Somewhat vexed, Much bit his lower lip sulkily and focused on a particularly nasty spot of grease on the silver plate he was cleaning. "I came straight here", he muttered. "Didn't listen to gossip."

"Well, if you had, you would have learnt that our beloved Sheriff and dearest Sir Guy encurred the King's wrath and have been declared outlaws and traitors to the crown. Mostly everybody had a good laugh, I must say. Except the earl of Huntingdon, I reckon."

"Why ?"

She stopped scrubbing for a moment and stared at him. "You've really not heard anything, have you ? He was declared a traitor as well. Since he's an earl, he will be judged by his peers, but with King John here to supervise everybody knows what the outcome will be..."

"When ?" Much urged her. "When will the trial take place ?"

Surprised by his insistence, Vivian looked thoughtful for a while. "What does it matter to you ?"

"Well - er - hum, I mean..."

She sighed. "Don't bother lying, Much. I would know."

"I can't tell you", he blurt out.

The girl eyed him critically. "At least that's honest, I suppose. But that's not good enough. Either you tell me, or you can go and ask someone else."

Disgruntled, Much frowned at her. "And why not ? You just said that everybody knew all about it."

"I did not say that everybody knows the date of the trial. That one information belongs to the kitchens only. So you can ask the grooms, the maid servants or the manservants all you want, they won't be able to tell you."

Much nodded, aware of the rivalry that existed between the various sections of the household. It often happened that some knew of special bits of information that were not common knowledge, and fiercely withheld them to trade in exchange for a mug of beer at the tavern or for a coin. If Vivian was to give that kind of information for free to someone who was not part of the kitchen, it might well be considered treason, and that would make her life very difficult. Yet, he could not tell her he was one of Robin Hood's men, could he ? As devoid of importance as he considered himself to be, there still was a reward offered for the capture of _any _of Robin Hood's outlaws. Although that might have changed with the _removal _of the Sheriff by the King...And speaking of it, who was going to replace him ? Well, the King had probably not yet chosen someone... then, Much remembered Philip Mark, and he shuddered. Perhaps it would be a good idea to help the Sheriff get back his former rank, in the end.

"I need this information for a friend", he said reluctantly.

But Vivian shook her head. "That's still not good enough. Who's this friend ?"

Much began to squirm uneasily. If he came back without the information, Robin would not be happy, and once again he would have proven his worthlessness. But he knew Vivian would not relent, which meant he would get the information only if he told her about himself. It would have been a lie to pretend he was not afraid at the idea, but on the other hand he could not bear the idea of failing the simple mission Robin had entrusted him with. In the end, the one question was, did he trust Vivian enough to tell her about his being an outlaw ?

Taking a deep breath, the boy braced himself. "All right." He lowered his voice as much as possible. "I need this information for Robin Hood."

A deep surprise appeared on Vivian's face, so much that he wondered whether he should consider himself insulted by her disbelief. "Robin Hood ?" she squeaked, in a voice slightly too high-pitched.

"Shhhhh !!" Much hissed, glancing frantically around him to make sure no one was paying them undue attention.

"_You _are the one who is going to draw attention if you keep acting that way", the girl commented dryly. She looked at him with calculating eyes. "Can you prove it ?"

"Prove it ? What do you mean ?"

She smiled wryly. "Much, dear boy... you can't just tell me that you work for - for you-know-who, and expect me to believe it just like that." She snapped her fingers to illustrate her point.

"Well... I... but..." he began, dumbfounded. "How do you want me to prove something like that ?"

Vivian grinned, and Much noticed once again how much her smile brightened her features. "Introduce me to him."

* * *

Time is relative, and can go slowly or quickly, depending on one's mood. In this particular case, it was going slowly rather than quickly, at least for the Sheriff of Nottingham. The good side of the situation was that neither he nor Gisburne had been killed so far, which was rather encouraging. On the other hand, nothing much had happened. Robin Hood had been speaking with his men, and had seemingly sent away several of them. The only one who stayed was the Saracen, but the man was easily forgotten for he seemed to speak as though there was a limited amount of words he was allowed to use in his life. But he kept an hawk's eye on the two prisoners.

It was only in the middle of the afternoon that it changed, and that came as a relief for de Rainault, who was beginning to feel tremendously bored. Robin Hood approached the Sheriff and Gisburne, fists on his hips in an overbearing attitude. All he received back were two hateful glares.

"Your story was confirmed", he announced. "It seems you said the truth, finally."

"So what is your decision ?" de Rainault grumbled. Gisburne wisely kept silent.

"Unfortunately", the leader outlaw sighed, "I might need your help to exonerate my father. I don't trust either of you, but I think we can reach a truce, at least until my father is safe. The question is, how are we going to proceed ?"

De Rainault smirked. He had been waiting for this moment. "It so happens I have a plan", he said, savouring the sweet feeling of domination over the chief outlaw - even if the said feeling was considerably fainter with him captive and tied up. "But we need to get inside the castle..."

He trailed off and looked expectantly at Robin Hood. He had been wondering how the outlaw had managed to get so easily past his guards on several occasions, and that was a golden opportunity to find out. That kind of knowledge would be useful when he got back his position.

Robin Hood merely shrugged aside the comment. "That won't be a problem", he merely said, and obviously was not going to give any more details.

Hiding his slight disappointment - but he would find out sooner or later anyway - de Rainault merely nodded and continued, "Once in the castle, we have to capture the girl, uh..."

"Aceline", Gisburne supplied. Trust him to remember that kind of details.

"Whatever", the Sheriff sneered disdainfully. "She is the one who made these false accusations. Once we have her, we can interrogate her and find out the truth. And once we know who is responsible for this mess, we can get them to the King."

Robin Hood pondered the idea for a little while, then nodded. "It sounds reasonable", he said. "Although I will add a small detail to that plan ; we will also free my father. At least, that way we will have more time. They cannot execute him if they don't have him."

Aware that he would most likely not be able to change the outlaw's decision, and even though he deemed that freeing the earl of Huntingdon was more dangerous than it was worth, de Rainault shrugged his agreement.

"There is one more thing", Robin Hood went on, "how will we find the girl in the castle ?"

"I know where her personal chamber is", Gisburne said.

"Of course you do", the Sheriff sniggered. And here he had truly thought that his steward had done nothing with her but dance... he cast the blond man a suspicious glance.

"My lord !" Gisburne sounded genuinely offended. "I know it only because I was the one who assigned the rooms to each guest !"

"Hmmm..." de Rainault mumbled thoughtfully. Could all this be a clever plot on Gisburne's part ? Did he have that much ambition ?

The answer was definitely yes. The steward definitely had enough ambition. But probably not the brain capacity to plan something like that. Then again, perhaps he had just been manipulated... Well, the Sheriff would probably know that after Aceline was made to answer his questions.

"All right, we will act tonight."

"Tonight ?" De Rainault raised an eyebrow. "Why the hurry ?"

Robin Hood eyed him coldly. "You might have forgotten that tiny _detail_, Sheriff. But my father is going to be executed, and sooner rather than later. I am not taking that kind of chance. Neither should you, Gisburne."

Wondering what on earth the outlaw meant, the Sheriff turned sharply his head ; but already Robin Hood was walking away, and in his back he felt Gisburne tense noticeably. What was this secret that his steward and the wolfshead shared, de Rainault still did not know, but he was beginning to suspect that it was only loosely related to their current predicament. It almost sounded like an old feud...

He would get Gisburne to tell him, and sooner rather than later.

Some time later, the Saracen came to cut the ropes that tied the two prisoners. The Sheriff rose awkwardly to his feet as feeling slowly came back in his limbs, while Gisburne remained sitting and rubbed his wrists. Just walking had never felt so wonderful, but de Rainault was left little time to relish it, for soon enough Robin Hood gathered his men around him, and the two prisoners were _kindly _invited to join in. The chief outlaw explained the broad outlines of their objectives, then began to dwell on the more practical aspects.

"We will form two groups", he said. "I will be in the group that frees my father, since I will have to convince him to follow us. Little John, Much, Marian, Tuck and the Sheriff will be with me. We know where the gaols are, so that should be no trouble. We will just have to take care of the guards. In the meantime, Gisburne, Nasir and Will, you'll go and take Aceline. We will regroup here. Any question ?"

"Yeah", Scarlett said. "You are really goin' to follow the _Sheriff_'s plan ? Are ye suicidal or somethin' ?"

"Will, we have already been over that", Robin said with the face of someone who is tired of repeating endlessly the same thing. "I have checked their story, and we have no time to waste. My father's life is at stake."

Scarlett snorted and gave Gisburne a dirty look. "You'd better not try anything, _gamekeeper_", he said nastily. "Or I'll make sure that's the last thing you do."

Gisburne just glared and kept silent. He had been doing that a lot of late, the Sheriff thought idly. That was weird, in previous times the man had never known when to shut up. He should be happy that his steward had finally learnt the virtues of silence, but he could not help but feel, well, concerned. He did not like people behaving strangely, because they were bound to do something that was not in their character, and that he had not anticipated. And that was dangerous.

"Nothing else ?" Robin enquired.

"Yeah, there is somethin' else", Scarlett interjected once again.

The chief outlaw rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "All right, what is it this time ?"

"All right, we follow their plan and they have to come, but we're not goin' to give them weapons, are we ?"

Robin blinked. "Well... I don't know..."

"How are we going to defend ourselves without weapons ?!" Gisburne protested immediately. So much for learning the virtues of silence.

"I don't care, and at least you won't strike us in the back", Scarlett retorted.

"He has a point", Little John commented.

"Well... hum..." Robin hesitated. He glanced around, crossing the eyes of his men, who all seemed unanimous on the subject, and he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." Then he narrowed his eyes. "But that does not mean I don't expect the both of them to come back. Alive."

Scarlett pursed his lips and said nothing. Robin shared a look with Nasir and sighed. "Yes, right. Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

Gisburne had never thought that he might one day be glad to be walking at dusk in a cold forest with outlaws and de Rainault for sole company, but he could not deny it was still better than to be kept prisoner in a cave, in the middle of Sherwood. At least, now he was doing something to find a way out of his current predicament, even if that meant walking side to side with Robin Hood. Although walking side to side, at that very moment, was more a figure of speech than anything else, since Gisburne had the Saracen on his left and Scarlet on his right. He did not mind too much being with Nasir ; at least the man was silent and did not stare - contrary to Scarlet. However, having a nearly insane man next to him was quite taxing for Gisburne's nerves, when himself was weaponless - how he missed his sword and dagger...

A little further ahead, the other outlaws and the Sheriff followed a Robin Hood who seemed to know perfectly well where he was going. Gisburne had given up long ago trying to figure out where they were, each bush, tree or stump very much the same in his opinion, but suddenly it seemed to him that his surroundings were actually familiar, more so than they ought to. After a little while, he understood why ; Robin Hood had led the party almost straight to the castle, and was now taking them round the walls. Eventually he stopped, for a reason that remained mysterious in the steward's opinion. Yet, it did not seem to be mysterious for the Sheriff, who now looked angrier than he had been in a very long time. Gisburne strained his ears, trying to make out what was being said.

"...I had this passage _closed _!" was hissing de Rainault, looking accusingly at Robin Hood. The outlaw glanced stolidly back, and shrugged.

"Please, Sheriff. You could not show us this passage and expect us not to use it - that's why you closed it in the first place, is it not ? Not our fault the job was only half done."

Gisburne had to admire the Sheriff's steely grip on his nerves ; the short man seemed to be on the verge of apoplexy, but still managed to grimace a toothy smile.

"I shall not be so careless in the future."

"Come now, don't make us regret having showed you this", Robin retorted, as though scolding a child.

Gisburne very sincerely expected the Sheriff to blow up, but was disappointed for de Rainault merely snarled and fell silent, and the steward felt that it was very important for his future safety that he pretend not having witnessed the scene.

Everybody gathered around the entrance of the passage, which had been closed by a door some time ago ; but now, the two halves of the door hardly stood together, and they were quickly removed to let the passage open. Gisburne realized that it must be the castle's secret way to escape - for some reason, de Rainault had always refused to tell him where the external entrance was, and the steward now felt a mean satisfaction at the idea of knowing eventually.

"All right", Robin said, "this passage leads in the guards' room, so we'll have to be careful and silent. We'll split up at the end of the passage and continue according to the plan. As soon as each group is done, they'll get immediately back to Sherwood, no waiting for one another here, understood ?"

The outlaws murmured their assent, while their two temporary allies made it a point to purse their lips and keep silent ; to little avail, since nobody paid them any attention - they were obviously not expected to answer from the start.

"Go now", Robin concluded, "I'll bring up the rear."

One after the other, the outlaws and the Sheriff disappeared in the pitch darkness of the passage, and Gisburne heard a rat squeak, then a curse - Little John's voice. He was last, and did not believe for a moment it was by pure chance. And, indeed, as he was about to get inside the passage behind Nasir (Scarlet having adamently refused to have the steward in his back), the lord wolfshead stopped him.

"You know the castle better than Nasir and Will, Gisburne, but remember - if they are caught, your life is forfeit as well." Robin's blue eyes were icy. "And if the King does not kill you then, rest assured I will."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would", the steward retorted bitterly. "But _you _better keep your part of the bargain. I need the Sheriff alive."

Gisburne knew all too well how tempting it was to leave the Sheriff behind, and _he _was used to it, contrary to the outlaws. And, without the Sheriff, he had little chance of ever getting back his position as a steward...

"How touching", Robin said dryly. "Now, hurry. They're waiting."

Fortunately, the two men had kept their voices low enough so that nobody could make out what they said, and no comment was made when they caught up with the rest of the group and Robin took back the lead. They resumed walking, or rather stumbling, in the dark. Nobody had remembered to bring a torch, so they were progressing blindly, surrounded by rats, and squelching ; it had rained a lot in the past few days, and the dirt at their feet had turned to a thick, stinking mud. Under such circumstances, Gisburne's height was a hindrance more than an asset, for he regularly forgot to lean forward and bumped his head every now and then on the roof. A half dozen curses followed inevitably, and the outlaws' sniggers did not help in the least, nor the Sheriff's irritated sighs.

After what felt like forever, at last, the small group arrived at the end of the tunnel.

"I need Gisburne and Little John, here", the lord wolfshead whispered.

A few curses and yelps of pain later, the two tallest men of the group came behind Robin.

"Feel that paving stone up there ?" the young man asked.

"Yes", Little John said.

"No", Gisburne grumbled at the same moment.

He heard an exasperated sigh, and then cold fingers closed around his wrist. Through sheer reflex, he shook himself free, violently, and Robin blurt out a hiss of pain.

"Stop playing the fool, you idiot", the wolfshead growled. "I'm just showing you where the paving stone is !"

Gisburne probably should be used to being called names - the Sheriff called him an idiot fifteen times a day, at the very least. When he was in a good mood. But the Sheriff was his lord, and Robin Hood was not, and the steward had had a very bad day. Almost by themselves, his hands found the wolfshead's throat and closed around it.

"Don't... call... me..." he managed through gritted teeth, but then Robin Hood yanked himself free and took a step backward.

"What the hell is wrong with you ?" the leader outlaw said furiously.

"Robin, what's going on ?" Marion asked at the same time.

In the dark, nobody had seen what had happened between the two men. Gisburne realized he was breathing heavily, and tried to calm himself, to little avail. He half expected to be killed on the spot - but of course, the wolfshead would not. The man's arrogance had always astonished him, the steward thought in a strangely detached manner.

"Nothing", Robin said in a normal, if a little hoarse voice. "The paving stone is right above your head, Gisburne."

Raising his arms above his head, the steward felt indeed a cold stone under his fingers.

"Ready ? Then push, the both of you, and don't make a sound if you care about your life."

Gisburne obeyed, and he felt that Little John was doing his share at the same moment. Together, they laid the heavy paving stone on the side, and some light filtered down in the tunnel. Robin Hood was right under the newly formed hole, and with a certain satisfaction Gisburne saw red marks on his neck, half hidden by his longish blond hair.

"Alright, I'll go up there first", the leader outlaw announced, "then each of you will follow me. John, help me climb..."

A second later, he was up there. It was rather unpleasant to see him in a dominant position, and Gisburne hurried to climb behind him. Little John followed, and then the Sheriff, Much and Marion. Tuck proved to be a little more trouble - more than he was worth, in Gisburne's opinion - for he was just a little too fat to get through the hole easily. After much pulling and hauling and dragging, and the sacrifice of a little skin, he was brought up. Gisburne tried not to think about what it would look like if the friar had to go through that hole again in a hurry, if the outlaws' presence in the castle came to be known. The imagined result was, in all sincerity, highly amusing, and he must not have been the only one thinking about it if the small smile on the faces of Marion and Robin, and the Sheriff's sneer, were any indication.

"Good, now, down to the cells", Robin murmured. "And heed what I said, no waiting each other."

"Time to be on our own, hey, Gisburne", Scarlet said in a sinister voice. "Lead the way, and remember - I have a sword, and ye don't."

As though he could forget it, the steward thought bitterly. But he only gave a curt nod in acknowledgement.

"There will be guards", he warned, feeling a little guilty to be the one to kill or harm his men, this time. But these were the very same men who would have hanged him without an hesitation had the King had time to give the order, so that put the situation in a new light altogether.

"Nasir can deal with them. Could do it with his two hands tied behind his back. Good try, but don't expect me to take my eyes off ye", Scarlet sniggered.

Gisburne had seen the Saracen in action, and he knew that the outlaw was saying the truth. Heaving an inaudible sigh, he nodded and took the lead. He recognized perfectly the room they were in ; unused most of the time, it was very close to the guards' room, but it was possible to avoid most of the aforementioned guards. The steward knew everything there was to know about the guards of the castle and their positions at night, having chosen them himself. Thanks to his intimate knowledge of the layout of the castle, Nasir had only to knock out three guards, and he killed the fourth with cold-blooded ruthlessness and efficiency. With less emotion than he would have thought, Gisburne watched the now lifeless body fall limply to the ground, but he was surprised to see that Scarlet seemed actually moved. Did the man have a conscience, after all ?

"How much farther ?" he asked in a subdued voice.

"Not too far", Gisburne replied.

"That's what you said the three last times I asked you the question."

"It would help if you did not ask it every two minutes", the steward retorted with something akin to exasperation.

The three men continued in silence. They had now reached the guests' quarters, and the tricky part was naturally to remember where Aceline's room was exactly, without killing more guards than necessary - someone was bound to discover the bodies, sooner or later. Gisburne stopped for a moment, trying to find his bearings, and Scarlet impatiently nudged him with the tip of his dagger.

"No tricks, Gisburne !"

"Quiet !" the steward hissed back. "I'm trying to remember where the girl's room is."

He was pretty sure that the third door on the right was the earl of Derby's room, so presumably his daughter's room would have to be either the second or the fourth on the right. Unless it was the one across the corridor ? Gisburne's memory, usually excellent, seemed to be failing him at the worst possible moment.

"Hurry !"

And Scarlet's prompts were not exactly helping. He did his best to ignore them and focused on the corridor. The door on the left was the earl of Warwick's suite, if he remembered correctly. And the first door on the right was Leicester's. Now, where was Aceline's ? Most likely, the fourth door on the right, he decided eventually, and said as much to his two companions.

"You sure ?" Scarlet asked threateningly.

"As much as I can be", Gisburne said with a glare.

"You better be, or you'll be the first to die."

"Enough", Nasir cut them, without anger but very firmly.

The matter settled, the three men moved silently along the corridor, until they reached the door, and Scarlet motioned for Gisburne to open it. The thick and old panel of wood creaked horribly and Gisburne winced, half-expecting a dozen guards to show up, but no other sound could be heard, apart from Scarlet's raspy breath. The steward slipped into the dark room, carefully treading to the bed where the girl was resting peacefully. Her face, glowing white in the moonlight, was strangely more attractive than he remembered. Gisburne had never looked like that at a sleeping woman, not even the ones he had occasionally slept with, and the scene felt strangely indecent.

Scarlet was moved by no such feeling as he pushed the steward aside to stand by the young lady's bed, yet his hand was gentle when he shook her awake. Aceline mumbled, then opened sleepy eyes, and for a second she looked blankly at the man who had roused her. The sight of a badly-shaved Saxon was so unexpected and unbelievable that it took her a moment to react. When the reality of what she was seeing finally struck her, her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream, but she did not have time as Scarlet's hand pressed against her lips.

"Not a sound", he ordered savagely, and she could do nothing but stare at him fearfully.

Then, determination replaced fear in her eyes, and Scarlet yelped in pain, removing his hand from the girl's mouth with a curse. Obviously, she had bitten him, and in spite of the incongruousness of the situation, Gisburne had to fight to keep back a laugh. Served the outlaw right. Yet, his life was on the line too, and he could hardly afford to let Aceline go. At the same time, she saw him, and her astonishment left her voiceless. That was fortunate, for had she shouted for help, the castle would have been roaming with guards in a moment.

Gisburne stepped forward and lift a hand to Aceline's mouth, careful not to make the same mistake as Scarlet.

"Don't scream", he warned softly.

Casting a sidelong glance at Scarlet, who had still his dagger in hand, she nodded dumbly.

"Behave, and no harm will come to you", Gisburne said. That was as much comfort as he could give.

"What... what do you intend to do to me ?" she asked, her voice quivering. She looked again at Scarlet, and another kind of fear crept in her eyes. "You're not going to..."

It took Gisburne a full minute to understand what she meant. Obviously, she overestimated her own charms. "Oh, for the love of Christ", he muttered. "No, of course not ! Nothing like that, girl. Now, come along, and keep silent."

She came out of the bed and stood there, shivering in the cold air of the bedroom. "I... I can't go out in my night clothes..." she protested weakly.

Gisburne looked at the two others, hoping for some help. Scarlet shrugged. Nasir stared. All right, no help then. Sighing, he grabbed Aceline's dressing gown, which was neatly folded on a chair, and threw it at her. She hardly looked satisfied, but it would be far more mortifying if she had to change in front of three men, so the dressing gown would have to do. Gisburne did not feel very patient while she struggled with the piece of clothing, but if she cooperated at least a little it would make their task all the easier, so he was willing to indulge her, to a certain extent.

Being finally done, she looked up at the steward. "Why are you doing this to me ?" she asked plaintively.

That was all Gisburne could do not to strike her. That she dared to ask such a question, after the lies she had said... His fingers closed on her upper arm, and he did not answer. "Move", was all he said.

They went out of the bedroom, with Nasir and Scarlet on both sides. Gisburne wondered whether they were guarding Aceline or him. Both, more likely. He felt the young lady shake, but whether that was out of fear or out of cold, he could not tell - nor was he very interested in the answer.

However, the four of them had hardly gone a hundred feet, when suddenly they heard the noise of footsteps and frantic shouts. The alarm had been raised. Scarlet and Nasir shared a concerned look, then turned to Gisburne. Scarlet waved his dagger under the steward's nose.

"All right, you know the place. You get us out of here. No games."

Nasir stretched out his hand and forcefully lowered the dagger.

"He has as much to lose as we do", the Saracen said quietly. He looked at the steward. "Lead the way."

Nasir did not speak much, but when he did it was with a deep, commanding voice - the voice of a man expecting to be obeyed. For a second, Gisburne wondered if the Saracen had been a nobleman in his country, then pushed the thought aside as irrelevant to the current situation.

"This way", he said, and still holding Aceline's arm, he strode forward.

A soft sob informed him that the girl was crying, but he could hardly have cared less, and did not slow his pace. He knew the castle well enough, and thankfully the commotion seemed to have drifted in the direction of the gaols, farther from the small group. Gisburne had a nasty suspicion that the Sheriff and his b... Robin Hood were in trouble. Unless one of the guards Scarlet had knocked out had been found. But in any case, the underground way out was definitely impossible to reach. There was no other way out, and he told his companions as much.

"So what can we do ?" Nasir asked.

"Hide", Gisburne said. "And wait for an occasion to get out."

"Hide where ?"

"In the Lord Abbot's quarters", Gisburne said with a certain amount of dark satisfaction. That was one of his best ideas yet.

"What, in Hugo's bedroom ?" Scarlet muttered jubilantly. "Is he there ?"

"I don't know. The Abbot seldom informs me of his intentions in advance", the steward replied sarcastically.

He crept closer to the wall and prudently glanced around the corner. No guards in sight.

"Please let me go", Aceline murmured. He ignored her and, walking to Hugo's door, opened it and slid inside, followed by the two outlaws. The room was plunged in the dark, but a soft snoring told him it had an occupant. So Hugo was there, unfortunately. Behind Gisburne, Nasir closed the door, and the click of the lock was loud enough to make the steward wince ; the snoring stopped. Gisburne's eyes were getting used to the almost complete darkness, but there was not enough light for him to see the occupant of the bed ; however, he heard a ruffle of sheets as the man moved.

"Whuzzat ?" asked a sleepy voice. Yes, definitely Hugo. Upon hearing no answer, he asked again, sounding more awake this time. Gisburne had no choice but to answer.

"It's me, my lord. Sir Guy."

He felt Scarlet tense behind him. "You idiot !" the outlaw hissed. "Why did you answer ?!"

"We don't really have a choice", Gisburne snapped back. He did not care much anymore if Scarlet had a dagger and not him ; he had enough of this impudent Saxon's behaviour. Besides, Scarlet could hardly afford to kill him now.

"Gisburne ?" Hugo's voice revealed his astonishment. "What the devil are you doing here at this time of the night ? Is my brother with you ?"

"He's in the castle", Gisburne replied. That was not much of a secret anymore, anyway, if, as he suspected, the Sheriff had been caught. "We came to find proof of our innocence."

"Innocence, my foot", Hugo snorted with one of these fit of vulgarity that overtook him sometimes.

"That's the truth, my lord !" Gisburne protested. "Would I lie to you ?"

"Without a second's hesitation", the abbot replied instantly. "But I might believe you are saying the truth, if only because I know you and Robert well enough to be sure you would never let Robin Hood escape, let alone help him." As usual, the younger de Rainault said the name of the notorious outlaw as though spitting an insult. "Which does not explain what you are doing here."

Without awaiting an answer, the abbot rose and walked to the fireplace to revive the fire. He added some more logs, and after a moment, yellow flames began to lick the wood, spreading a much welcome light and warmth. When Hugo saw who was accompanying Gisburne, his eyes widened in disbelief, but he said nothing, merely waiting for the steward to inform him. He had this compelling look that made people want to confess, which arguably was not out of character for an abbot. Gisburne looked at him nervously, unsure how to best explain the situation.

Eventually, the abbot got tired of waiting. "Gisburne, I will not ask again. What the devil are you doing in my bedroom, in the middle of the night, with two outlaws and some wretched girl from God knows where ?"

Unsurprisingly, he had not recognized Aceline in her night clothes and dressing gown. The abbot rarely payed any attention to girls, and Gisburne was not entirely sure that was only due to his vows, though naturally that was beneath him to even listen to gossip.

"The lord Sheriff has a temporary agreement with these outlaws", he explained reluctantly. "And the girl might be able to help exonerating us."

"Robert, an agreement with outlaws ?" Hugo asked incredulously. "Ha, why am I even surprised ?"

Gisburne decided the question was rhetorical and abstained from answering. The abbot did not seem to be expecting a reply anyway.

"You place me in a difficult position, Gisburne", Hugo continued. "I'm not sure the best solution would not be to surrender you to the King."

Nasir moved quietly, but with deadly speed. His sword was drawn and at the abbot's neck before anyone else had had time to move. "I think", the Saracen said, "that if you want to live, you will reconsider."

The lord abbot was arguably not a coward, but braver men would have been awed by the sinister light in Nasir's dark, unfathomable eyes. Hugo swallowed and bowed slightly his head in agreement, though he looked speculatively at his unwanted guests through slitted eyes. He was a cunning man, Gisburne knew that, and if he really wanted to betray them to the king, he would find a way. The question was, did he really want to ?

"Lower your sword, Saracen", Gisburne said.

He had almost - but not quite entirely - forgotten the presence of Scarlet in his back, but was strongly reminded of it when the outlaw leaned toward him and he felt the man's breath on his neck. "You're not in a position to give orders, pretty boy", the outlaw said.

Gisburne's eyes widened in indignation at the surname. How did that filthy scum even _dare_... his hand shot towards Scarlet's wrist and his finger closed around it in a steely grip. "You _will _address me with the proper respect", the steward hissed.

"That's hardly the time for your ego to take precedence", Hugo said with irritation. "The sooner you are out of my room, the better. And where the devil is my brother ?"

For a holy man, the abbot cursed a lot.

"He was to free Huntingdon", Gisburne said automatically, before he had time to catch himself. He was so used to obeying Hugo, when he used that commanding tone...

"This is ridiculous", the abbot muttered. "But it _is _in my best interest to see to it my brother is exonerated, fortunately for you."

"Does that mean you are going to help ?" asked Nasir, sheathing his sword before he even heard the answer. He probably did not see Hugo as much of a danger ; and as much as the abbot was a wily and ruthless man, it was nevertheless undeniable that he was no good with a sword. Then again, with a dagger he could hold his own... and Gisburne would have bet his favourite horse that Hugo did have a dagger hidden about him. Apparently, the abbot chose not to use it.

"I have obviously no choice", the abbot said, gratifying the Saracen with a glare. "since you are threatening to kill me and the girl if I don't."

Nasir nodded his understanding.

"We will need to stay here till morning", Gisburne said. "In the morning, we can devise a way to escape. But we'll have to move early, before the girl's disappearance is noticed."

"I don't want to know about it", Hugo retorted. "I'm going back to bed."

The floor was cold and hard, but nobody even suggested to share the abbot's bed.

* * *

Actually, the Sheriff had not been captured. As a matter of fact, Robin's group had been doing quite well, up to a point. There had been no major problem to get to the gaols ; there were guards, but they were easily knocked out by Little John. So easily, in fact, that de Rainault decided that his first act when he got back his title of Sheriff would be to replace them. With this resolution in mind, that was without a shred of pity that he watched Little John knock yet another one of them senseless, raising up the count to a half-dozen. This man was a beautiful specimen of Saxon serfhood, de Rainault decided. Not excessively clever - not that intelligence was a redeeming quality for any Saxon - and a little too rebellious, but strong as a pair of oxen. He would have to tell Gisburne to hire a few men similar to that one.

The way to the gaols was now guard-free, and the small group entered. Locating Huntingdon was not difficult, for he was the only prisoner, apart from the old fool who had been there longer than anyone could remember. De Rainault bit back a smile ; he was probably one of the last men alive to know that this old lunatic had once been, long ago, the Sheriff of Nottingham. He did not even remember what the man had done to end up with a lifelong sentence in jail, but freeing him now would be completely useless now. One thing was for sure ; de Rainault would find a way not to finish his life in the same fashion.

Huntingdon looked up when his son called him, and anguish appeared on his face. "Robert, you should not have come."

Not a word of thanks. Well, now at least it was obvious who had taught Robin Hood his bad manners.

"Father, you know I could not leave you here !"

The scene was litteraly festering with good sentiment and lacrimation. Thoroughly disgusted, de Rainault looked away. These exhibition of filial love were more than he could bear.

"You have to, Robert."

Anytime now somebody was going to burst into tears. The Sheriff's mouth quirked in distaste.

"What do you mean, father ?"

"I can't go with you. I am a loyal subject to the King. No matter what his decision be, I will accept it. His law is my law."

Incredulity, as well as hurt now appeared on Robin Hood's face, while the other outlaws exchanged helpless glances. De Rainault was beginning to enjoy himself, or he would have if each passing second had not put his life in more jeopardy.

"But you freed me ! How's that any different ?"

So Huntingdon had indeed assisted Robin Hood in his escape ! Now that was interesting. And demoralizing. How the devil could it be possible to exonerate de Rainault, Gisburne and Huntingdon, if the latter had indeed committed treason ? Would the whole venture prove to be more of a waste of time than it already was ?

A ghostly smile passed on the earl's lips. "That's not the same thing. You are my son. My blood." He looked strangely pained as he said the last words, and so did Robin Hood, as though they shared a secret no one else knew, and these words held more than their obvious meaning.

"Father, we can argue about it later. For now we have to escape ! You are innocent ! I know you did not plot against the King."

"That may be so", Huntingdon acknowledged, "but I did commit treason when I freed you. I am guilty of that, if not of the crime I am accused of. Everything has a cost, son. It is time you learnt that lesson."

"You have to..." Robin began, but the earl interrupted him in mid-sentence, his voice full of unshakeable determination.

"Leave, Robert. There is nothing you can do for me."

That was too much for... well, for Much. The half-wit fell to his knees near the metallic grid that closed the filthy hole in which Huntingdon was locked. "He risked his life to come and get you ! You have to come !"

Huntingdon simply sat back down on the thick, brittle straw covering the ground, and Robin Hood swore under his breath.

"All right", he said, "we'll have to take him by force."

That was shocking enough to get Huntingdon to react. The earl stared at his son. "You wouldn't dare !"

"Try me", Robin retorted. "I am an outlaw, remember ?"

"And _I _am your father ! Will you stop arguing and obey me for once ?"

"No. John, open that thing, will you ?"

The tall man acknowledged the order and went to work on the metallic grid with the bunch of keys he had taken to one of the guards. But he had not quite found the right key yet when the alarm was raised. Somebody must have stumbled upon one of the unconscious guards, unless one of said guards had regained consciousness. The how and why hardly mattered for the moment.

"There is no time", Tuck murmured. "Robin, we have to leave now !"

De Rainault agreed wholeheartedly, but he doubted anybody would heed his advice. He glanced at the door ; perhaps he would better slip out discreetly while everybody was busy with this pigheaded earl.

"Hurry, John !" Robin Hood said through clenched teeth, having seemingly not heard the chaplain's muffled comment.

But Tuck cared about his skin just as much as the next man, and he could be as stubborn, too. He laid a hand on Robin's shoulder. "We must go. It's too late. We'll come back."

If they did, that would be without the Sheriff, but he decided it was wiser to let them know that only later.

"We can't leave my father behind !" Robin protested, his voice betraying his distress.

"If we don't go now, we'll join him", de Rainault commented, as obviously the outlawed leader needed a shove in the right direction. "Needless to say, that will accomplish nothing."

Robin Hood's features contorted in anger, but he had to acknowledge the truth in the Sheriff's statement. Sighing in defeat and frustration, he nodded curtly. "All right. Let's go."

Grimly, he took the lead. De Rainault was only too happy to follow, but Robin Hood's reluctance to leave might have been enough to cut their only way out. Guards were coming that way, and closer by the second. They appeared as the outlaws engaged the corridor leading to the secret passage, and Little John, who was bringing up the rear, stopped.

"Go !" he shouted. "I'll hold them back !"

What an idiot, the Sheriff thought angrily. If the guards had had any doubt as to the location of they preys, that was no longer the case. Did this great oaf really need to shout so loud ? Yet, the guards did look somewhat intimidated by the outlaw's height and bulk, and they hesitated to go into action.

_You have crossbows, you bunch of idiots ! Use them ! _de Rainault nearly shouted, before remembering whose side he was on. With an angry growl, he ran.

The trapdoor leading to the underground passage was only meters further. By the time everybody had reached it, Little John had retreated to the doorstep and was holding his own against an unknown number of men. Robin Hood got into the passage, then Much, then Tuck, who miraculously managed to get his bulk through the tight entrance without losing too much skin. De Rainault slid down behind them, and a moment later heard a heavy _thud_ as Little John jumped down as well. There was no time to close the passage, but anyway it would have been impossible to use it again, so that hardly mattered.

If he survived this insane ordeal, de Rainault would have this stupid tunnel destroyed. It had brought him nothing but unpleasant surprises. If he knew who had ordered the construction of that thing, he would gladly kill him. And torture him.

Bah ! Chanced were the man in question had been dead for centuries, anyway.

De Rainault found himself running in the pitch-darkness of the underground passage, doing his best not to slip in the soft and thick mud, result of decades of neglect and lack of maintenance.

But a secret passage would hardly be secret anymore if servants were sent there every morning to clean up. That led to an unpleasant choice between hygiene and secrecy. The lesser of two evil...

De Rainault cast aside this fruitless line of thought as, at last, he felt a cold, pure breeze from outdoors hit his face, and he inhaled deeply. As much as he was able to after such a run. He would have given much to be allowed to rest a little, and he was not the only one if the heavy respiration of the outlaws were any indication, but Robin Hood did not see it that way.

"Quickly, to the forest !" the outlaw urged. "They're bound to send people after us."

The frenzied run resumed, and Robin Hood allowed them only two halts before they reached the safety of the woods. De Rainault would not have believed it possible, only two days ago, if someone had told him he would feel safe in Sherwood.

The rest of the way to the outlaws' cave passed in a blur, and the Sheriff was only too glad when it stopped and he was able to slump down and catch his breath.

"The others are not here yet", Robin said, sounding concerned.

He was probably trying not to think about his father. Do-gooders such as him were so predictable.

"They will not be able to get out through the tunnel", Tuck said, stating the obvious.

De Rainault frowned, feeling an unpleasant sensation creep up his spine. Not that he cared about Gisburne, but without the girl and without Huntingdon, it would be hard to prove his innocence...

"Where is Marion ?" Much suddenly asked.

A very loud silence followed the question, as everyone looked around, and had to submit to the facts ; the young lady was nowhere in sight.

Nothing had been accomplished, Marion had been lost, as had Gisburne and the ones accompanying him. This expedition had not just been a waste of time ; it had been an utter, total, complete disaster.

How had _ever _Robin Hood managed to be so much of a nuisance with such dismal skills ?


	9. Chapter 9

Gisburne had never thought that he might one day be glad to be walking at dusk in a cold forest with outlaws and de Rainault for sole company, but he could not deny it was still better than to be kept prisoner in a cave, in the middle of Sherwood. At least, now he was doing something to find a way out of his current predicament, even if that meant walking side to side with Robin Hood. Although walking side to side, at that very moment, was more a figure of speech than anything else, since Gisburne had the Saracen on his left and Scarlet on his right. He did not mind too much being with Nasir ; at least the man was silent and did not stare - contrary to Scarlet. However, having a nearly insane man next to him was quite taxing for Gisburne's nerves, when himself was weaponless - how he missed his sword and dagger...

A little further ahead, the other outlaws and the Sheriff followed a Robin Hood who seemed to know perfectly well where he was going. Gisburne had given up long ago trying to figure out where they were, each bush, tree or stump very much the same in his opinion, but suddenly it seemed to him that his surroundings were actually familiar, more so than they ought to. After a little while, he understood why ; Robin Hood had led the party almost straight to the castle, and was now taking them round the walls. Eventually he stopped, for a reason that remained mysterious in the steward's opinion. Yet, it did not seem to be mysterious for the Sheriff, who now looked angrier than he had been in a very long time. Gisburne strained his ears, trying to make out what was being said.

"...I had this passage _closed _!" was hissing de Rainault, looking accusingly at Robin Hood. The outlaw glanced stolidly back, and shrugged.

"Please, Sheriff. You could not show us this passage and expect us not to use it - that's why you closed it in the first place, is it not ? Not our fault the job was only half done."

Gisburne had to admire the Sheriff's steely grip on his nerves ; the short man seemed to be on the verge of apoplexy, but still managed to grimace a toothy smile.

"I shall not be so careless in the future."

"Come now, don't make us regret having showed you this", Robin retorted, as though scolding a child.

Gisburne very sincerely expected the Sheriff to blow up, but was disappointed for de Rainault merely snarled and fell silent, and the steward felt that it was very important for his future safety that he pretend not having witnessed the scene.

Everybody gathered around the entrance of the passage, which had been closed by a door some time ago ; but now, the two halves of the door hardly stood together, and they were quickly removed to let the passage open. Gisburne realized that it must be the castle's secret way to escape - for some reason, de Rainault had always refused to tell him where the external entrance was, and the steward now felt a mean satisfaction at the idea of knowing eventually.

"All right", Robin said, "this passage leads in the guards' room, so we'll have to be careful and silent. We'll split up at the end of the passage and continue according to the plan. As soon as each group is done, they'll get immediately back to Sherwood, no waiting for one another here, understood ?"

The outlaws murmured their assent, while their two temporary allies made it a point to purse their lips and keep silent ; to little avail, since nobody paid them any attention - they were obviously not expected to answer from the start.

"Go now", Robin concluded, "I'll bring up the rear."

One after the other, the outlaws and the Sheriff disappeared in the pitch darkness of the passage, and Gisburne heard a rat squeak, then a curse - Little John's voice. He was last, and did not believe for a moment it was by pure chance. And, indeed, as he was about to get inside the passage behind Nasir (Scarlet having adamently refused to have the steward in his back), the lord wolfshead stopped him.

"You know the castle better than Nasir and Will, Gisburne, but remember - if they are caught, your life is forfeit as well." Robin's blue eyes were icy. "And if the King does not kill you then, rest assured I will."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would", the steward retorted bitterly. "But _you _better keep your part of the bargain. I need the Sheriff alive."

Gisburne knew all too well how tempting it was to leave the Sheriff behind, and _he _was used to it, contrary to the outlaws. And, without the Sheriff, he had little chance of ever getting back his position as a steward...

"How touching", Robin said dryly. "Now, hurry. They're waiting."

Fortunately, the two men had kept their voices low enough so that nobody could make out what they said, and no comment was made when they caught up with the rest of the group and Robin took back the lead. They resumed walking, or rather stumbling, in the dark. Nobody had remembered to bring a torch, so they were progressing blindly, surrounded by rats, and squelching ; it had rained a lot in the past few days, and the dirt at their feet had turned to a thick, stinking mud. Under such circumstances, Gisburne's height was a hindrance more than an asset, for he regularly forgot to lean forward and bumped his head every now and then on the roof. A half dozen curses followed inevitably, and the outlaws' sniggers did not help in the least, nor the Sheriff's irritated sighs.

After what felt like forever, at last, the small group arrived at the end of the tunnel.

"I need Gisburne and Little John, here", the lord wolfshead whispered.

A few curses and yelps of pain later, the two tallest men of the group came behind Robin.

"Feel that paving stone up there ?" the young man asked.

"Yes", Little John said.

"No", Gisburne grumbled at the same moment.

He heard an exasperated sigh, and then cold fingers closed around his wrist. Through sheer reflex, he shook himself free, violently, and Robin blurt out a hiss of pain.

"Stop playing the fool, you idiot", the wolfshead growled. "I'm just showing you where the paving stone is !"

Gisburne probably should be used to being called names - the Sheriff called him an idiot fifteen times a day, at the very least. When he was in a good mood. But the Sheriff was his lord, and Robin Hood was not, and the steward had had a very bad day. Almost by themselves, his hands found the wolfshead's throat and closed around it.

"Don't... call... me..." he managed through gritted teeth, but then Robin Hood yanked himself free and took a step backward.

"What the hell is wrong with you ?" the leader outlaw said furiously.

"Robin, what's going on ?" Marion asked at the same time.

In the dark, nobody had seen what had happened between the two men. Gisburne realized he was breathing heavily, and tried to calm himself, to little avail. He half expected to be killed on the spot - but of course, the wolfshead would not. The man's arrogance had always astonished him, the steward thought in a strangely detached manner.

"Nothing", Robin said in a normal, if a little hoarse voice. "The paving stone is right above your head, Gisburne."

Raising his arms above his head, the steward felt indeed a cold stone under his fingers.

"Ready ? Then push, the both of you, and don't make a sound if you care about your life."

Gisburne obeyed, and he felt that Little John was doing his share at the same moment. Together, they laid the heavy paving stone on the side, and some light filtered down in the tunnel. Robin Hood was right under the newly formed hole, and with a certain satisfaction Gisburne saw red marks on his neck, half hidden by his longish blond hair.

"Alright, I'll go up there first", the leader outlaw announced, "then each of you will follow me. John, help me climb..."

A second later, he was up there. It was rather unpleasant to see him in a dominant position, and Gisburne hurried to climb behind him. Little John followed, and then the Sheriff, Much and Marion. Tuck proved to be a little more trouble - more than he was worth, in Gisburne's opinion - for he was just a little too fat to get through the hole easily. After much pulling and hauling and dragging, and the sacrifice of a little skin, he was brought up. Gisburne tried not to think about what it would look like if the friar had to go through that hole again in a hurry, if the outlaws' presence in the castle came to be known. The imagined result was, in all sincerity, highly amusing, and he must not have been the only one thinking about it if the small smile on the faces of Marion and Robin, and the Sheriff's sneer, were any indication.

"Good, now, down to the cells", Robin murmured. "And heed what I said, no waiting each other."

"Time to be on our own, hey, Gisburne", Scarlet said in a sinister voice. "Lead the way, and remember - I have a sword, and ye don't."

As though he could forget it, the steward thought bitterly. But he only gave a curt nod in acknowledgement.

"There will be guards", he warned, feeling a little guilty to be the one to kill or harm his men, this time. But these were the very same men who would have hanged him without an hesitation had the King had time to give the order, so that put the situation in a new light altogether.

"Nasir can deal with them. Could do it with his two hands tied behind his back. Good try, but don't expect me to take my eyes off ye", Scarlet sniggered.

Gisburne had seen the Saracen in action, and he knew that the outlaw was saying the truth. Heaving an inaudible sigh, he nodded and took the lead. He recognized perfectly the room they were in ; unused most of the time, it was very close to the guards' room, but it was possible to avoid most of the aforementioned guards. The steward knew everything there was to know about the guards of the castle and their positions at night, having chosen them himself. Thanks to his intimate knowledge of the layout of the castle, Nasir had only to knock out three guards, and he killed the fourth with cold-blooded ruthlessness and efficiency. With less emotion than he would have thought, Gisburne watched the now lifeless body fall limply to the ground, but he was surprised to see that Scarlet seemed actually moved. Did the man have a conscience, after all ?

"How much farther ?" he asked in a subdued voice.

"Not too far", Gisburne replied.

"That's what you said the three last times I asked you the question."

"It would help if you did not ask it every two minutes", the steward retorted with something akin to exasperation.

The three men continued in silence. They had now reached the guests' quarters, and the tricky part was naturally to remember where Aceline's room was exactly, without killing more guards than necessary - someone was bound to discover the bodies, sooner or later. Gisburne stopped for a moment, trying to find his bearings, and Scarlet impatiently nudged him with the tip of his dagger.

"No tricks, Gisburne !"

"Quiet !" the steward hissed back. "I'm trying to remember where the girl's room is."

He was pretty sure that the third door on the right was the earl of Derby's room, so presumably his daughter's room would have to be either the second or the fourth on the right. Unless it was the one across the corridor ? Gisburne's memory, usually excellent, seemed to be failing him at the worst possible moment.

"Hurry !"

And Scarlet's prompts were not exactly helping. He did his best to ignore them and focused on the corridor. The door on the left was the earl of Warwick's suite, if he remembered correctly. And the first door on the right was Leicester's. Now, where was Aceline's ? Most likely, the fourth door on the right, he decided eventually, and said as much to his two companions.

"You sure ?" Scarlet asked threateningly.

"As much as I can be", Gisburne said with a glare.

"You better be, or you'll be the first to die."

"Enough", Nasir cut them, without anger but very firmly.

The matter settled, the three men moved silently along the corridor, until they reached the door, and Scarlet motioned for Gisburne to open it. The thick and old panel of wood creaked horribly and Gisburne winced, half-expecting a dozen guards to show up, but no other sound could be heard, apart from Scarlet's raspy breath. The steward slipped into the dark room, carefully treading to the bed where the girl was resting peacefully. Her face, glowing white in the moonlight, was strangely more attractive than he remembered. Gisburne had never looked like that at a sleeping woman, not even the ones he had occasionally slept with, and the scene felt strangely indecent.

Scarlet was moved by no such feeling as he pushed the steward aside to stand by the young lady's bed, yet his hand was gentle when he shook her awake. Aceline mumbled, then opened sleepy eyes, and for a second she looked blankly at the man who had roused her. The sight of a badly-shaved Saxon was so unexpected and unbelievable that it took her a moment to react. When the reality of what she was seeing finally struck her, her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream, but she did not have time as Scarlet's hand pressed against her lips.

"Not a sound", he ordered savagely, and she could do nothing but stare at him fearfully.

Then, determination replaced fear in her eyes, and Scarlet yelped in pain, removing his hand from the girl's mouth with a curse. Obviously, she had bitten him, and in spite of the incongruousness of the situation, Gisburne had to fight to keep back a laugh. Served the outlaw right. Yet, his life was on the line too, and he could hardly afford to let Aceline go. At the same time, she saw him, and her astonishment left her voiceless. That was fortunate, for had she shouted for help, the castle would have been roaming with guards in a moment.

Gisburne stepped forward and lift a hand to Aceline's mouth, careful not to make the same mistake as Scarlet.

"Don't scream", he warned softly.

Casting a sidelong glance at Scarlet, who had still his dagger in hand, she nodded dumbly.

"Behave, and no harm will come to you", Gisburne said. That was as much comfort as he could give.

"What... what do you intend to do to me ?" she asked, her voice quivering. She looked again at Scarlet, and another kind of fear crept in her eyes. "You're not going to..."

It took Gisburne a full minute to understand what she meant. Obviously, she overestimated her own charms. "Oh, for the love of Christ", he muttered. "No, of course not ! Nothing like that, girl. Now, come along, and keep silent."

She came out of the bed and stood there, shivering in the cold air of the bedroom. "I... I can't go out in my night clothes..." she protested weakly.

Gisburne looked at the two others, hoping for some help. Scarlet shrugged. Nasir stared. All right, no help then. Sighing, he grabbed Aceline's dressing gown, which was neatly folded on a chair, and threw it at her. She hardly looked satisfied, but it would be far more mortifying if she had to change in front of three men, so the dressing gown would have to do. Gisburne did not feel very patient while she struggled with the piece of clothing, but if she cooperated at least a little it would make their task all the easier, so he was willing to indulge her, to a certain extent.

Being finally done, she looked up at the steward. "Why are you doing this to me ?" she asked plaintively.

That was all Gisburne could do not to strike her. That she dared to ask such a question, after the lies she had said... His fingers closed on her upper arm, and he did not answer. "Move", was all he said.

They went out of the bedroom, with Nasir and Scarlet on both sides. Gisburne wondered whether they were guarding Aceline or him. Both, more likely. He felt the young lady shake, but whether that was out of fear or out of cold, he could not tell - nor was he very interested in the answer.

However, the four of them had hardly gone a hundred feet, when suddenly they heard the noise of footsteps and frantic shouts. The alarm had been raised. Scarlet and Nasir shared a concerned look, then turned to Gisburne. Scarlet waved his dagger under the steward's nose.

"All right, you know the place. You get us out of here. No games."

Nasir stretched out his hand and forcefully lowered the dagger.

"He has as much to lose as we do", the Saracen said quietly. He looked at the steward. "Lead the way."

Nasir did not speak much, but when he did it was with a deep, commanding voice - the voice of a man expecting to be obeyed. For a second, Gisburne wondered if the Saracen had been a nobleman in his country, then pushed the thought aside as irrelevant to the current situation.

"This way", he said, and still holding Aceline's arm, he strode forward.

A soft sob informed him that the girl was crying, but he could hardly have cared less, and did not slow his pace. He knew the castle well enough, and thankfully the commotion seemed to have drifted in the direction of the gaols, farther from the small group. Gisburne had a nasty suspicion that the Sheriff and his b... Robin Hood were in trouble. Unless one of the guards Scarlet had knocked out had been found. But in any case, the underground way out was definitely impossible to reach. There was no other way out, and he told his companions as much.

"So what can we do ?" Nasir asked.

"Hide", Gisburne said. "And wait for an occasion to get out."

"Hide where ?"

"In the Lord Abbot's quarters", Gisburne said with a certain amount of dark satisfaction. That was one of his best ideas yet.

"What, in Hugo's bedroom ?" Scarlet muttered jubilantly. "Is he there ?"

"I don't know. The Abbot seldom informs me of his intentions in advance", the steward replied sarcastically.

He crept closer to the wall and prudently glanced around the corner. No guards in sight.

"Please let me go", Aceline murmured. He ignored her and, walking to Hugo's door, opened it and slid inside, followed by the two outlaws. The room was plunged in the dark, but a soft snoring told him it had an occupant. So Hugo was there, unfortunately. Behind Gisburne, Nasir closed the door, and the click of the lock was loud enough to make the steward wince ; the snoring stopped. Gisburne's eyes were getting used to the almost complete darkness, but there was not enough light for him to see the occupant of the bed ; however, he heard a ruffle of sheets as the man moved.

"Whuzzat ?" asked a sleepy voice. Yes, definitely Hugo. Upon hearing no answer, he asked again, sounding more awake this time. Gisburne had no choice but to answer.

"It's me, my lord. Sir Guy."

He felt Scarlet tense behind him. "You idiot !" the outlaw hissed. "Why did you answer ?!"

"We don't really have a choice", Gisburne snapped back. He did not care much anymore if Scarlet had a dagger and not him ; he had enough of this impudent Saxon's behaviour. Besides, Scarlet could hardly afford to kill him now.

"Gisburne ?" Hugo's voice revealed his astonishment. "What the devil are you doing here at this time of the night ? Is my brother with you ?"

"He's in the castle", Gisburne replied. That was not much of a secret anymore, anyway, if, as he suspected, the Sheriff had been caught. "We came to find proof of our innocence."

"Innocence, my foot", Hugo snorted with one of these fit of vulgarity that overtook him sometimes.

"That's the truth, my lord !" Gisburne protested. "Would I lie to you ?"

"Without a second's hesitation", the abbot replied instantly. "But I might believe you are saying the truth, if only because I know you and Robert well enough to be sure you would never let Robin Hood escape, let alone help him." As usual, the younger de Rainault said the name of the notorious outlaw as though spitting an insult. "Which does not explain what you are doing here."

Without awaiting an answer, the abbot rose and walked to the fireplace to revive the fire. He added some more logs, and after a moment, yellow flames began to lick the wood, spreading a much welcome light and warmth. When Hugo saw who was accompanying Gisburne, his eyes widened in disbelief, but he said nothing, merely waiting for the steward to inform him. He had this compelling look that made people want to confess, which arguably was not out of character for an abbot. Gisburne looked at him nervously, unsure how to best explain the situation.

Eventually, the abbot got tired of waiting. "Gisburne, I will not ask again. What the devil are you doing in my bedroom, in the middle of the night, with two outlaws and some wretched girl from God knows where ?"

Unsurprisingly, he had not recognized Aceline in her night clothes and dressing gown. The abbot rarely payed any attention to girls, and Gisburne was not entirely sure that was only due to his vows, though naturally that was beneath him to even listen to gossip.

"The lord Sheriff has a temporary agreement with these outlaws", he explained reluctantly. "And the girl might be able to help exonerating us."

"Robert, an agreement with outlaws ?" Hugo asked incredulously. "Ha, why am I even surprised ?"

Gisburne decided the question was rhetorical and abstained from answering. The abbot did not seem to be expecting a reply anyway.

"You place me in a difficult position, Gisburne", Hugo continued. "I'm not sure the best solution would not be to surrender you to the King."

Nasir moved quietly, but with deadly speed. His sword was drawn and at the abbot's neck before anyone else had had time to move. "I think", the Saracen said, "that if you want to live, you will reconsider."

The lord abbot was arguably not a coward, but braver men would have been awed by the sinister light in Nasir's dark, unfathomable eyes. Hugo swallowed and bowed slightly his head in agreement, though he looked speculatively at his unwanted guests through slitted eyes. He was a cunning man, Gisburne knew that, and if he really wanted to betray them to the king, he would find a way. The question was, did he really want to ?

"Lower your sword, Saracen", Gisburne said.

He had almost - but not quite entirely - forgotten the presence of Scarlet in his back, but was strongly reminded of it when the outlaw leaned toward him and he felt the man's breath on his neck. "You're not in a position to give orders, pretty boy", the outlaw said.

Gisburne's eyes widened in indignation at the surname. How did that filthy scum even _dare_... his hand shot towards Scarlet's wrist and his finger closed around it in a steely grip. "You _will _address me with the proper respect", the steward hissed.

"That's hardly the time for your ego to take precedence", Hugo said with irritation. "The sooner you are out of my room, the better. And where the devil is my brother ?"

For a holy man, the abbot cursed a lot.

"He was to free Huntingdon", Gisburne said automatically, before he had time to catch himself. He was so used to obeying Hugo, when he used that commanding tone...

"This is ridiculous", the abbot muttered. "But it _is _in my best interest to see to it my brother is exonerated, fortunately for you."

"Does that mean you are going to help ?" asked Nasir, sheathing his sword before he even heard the answer. He probably did not see Hugo as much of a danger ; and as much as the abbot was a wily and ruthless man, it was nevertheless undeniable that he was no good with a sword. Then again, with a dagger he could hold his own... and Gisburne would have bet his favourite horse that Hugo did have a dagger hidden about him. Apparently, the abbot chose not to use it.

"I have obviously no choice", the abbot said, gratifying the Saracen with a glare. "since you are threatening to kill me and the girl if I don't."

Nasir nodded his understanding.

"We will need to stay here till morning", Gisburne said. "In the morning, we can devise a way to escape. But we'll have to move early, before the girl's disappearance is noticed."

"I don't want to know about it", Hugo retorted. "I'm going back to bed."

The floor was cold and hard, but nobody even suggested to share the abbot's bed.

* * *

Actually, the Sheriff had not been captured. As a matter of fact, Robin's group had been doing quite well, up to a point. There had been no major problem to get to the gaols ; there were guards, but they were easily knocked out by Little John. So easily, in fact, that de Rainault decided that his first act when he got back his title of Sheriff would be to replace them. With this resolution in mind, that was without a shred of pity that he watched Little John knock yet another one of them senseless, raising up the count to a half-dozen. This man was a beautiful specimen of Saxon serfhood, de Rainault decided. Not excessively clever - not that intelligence was a redeeming quality for any Saxon - and a little too rebellious, but strong as a pair of oxen. He would have to tell Gisburne to hire a few men similar to that one.

The way to the gaols was now guard-free, and the small group entered. Locating Huntingdon was not difficult, for he was the only prisoner, apart from the old fool who had been there longer than anyone could remember. De Rainault bit back a smile ; he was probably one of the last men alive to know that this old lunatic had once been, long ago, the Sheriff of Nottingham. He did not even remember what the man had done to end up with a lifelong sentence in jail, but freeing him now would be completely useless now. One thing was for sure ; de Rainault would find a way not to finish his life in the same fashion.

Huntingdon looked up when his son called him, and anguish appeared on his face. "Robert, you should not have come."

Not a word of thanks. Well, now at least it was obvious who had taught Robin Hood his bad manners.

"Father, you know I could not leave you here !"

The scene was litteraly festering with good sentiment and lacrimation. Thoroughly disgusted, de Rainault looked away. These exhibition of filial love were more than he could bear.

"You have to, Robert."

Anytime now somebody was going to burst into tears. The Sheriff's mouth quirked in distaste.

"What do you mean, father ?"

"I can't go with you. I am a loyal subject to the King. No matter what his decision be, I will accept it. His law is my law."

Incredulity, as well as hurt now appeared on Robin Hood's face, while the other outlaws exchanged helpless glances. De Rainault was beginning to enjoy himself, or he would have if each passing second had not put his life in more jeopardy.

"But you freed me ! How's that any different ?"

So Huntingdon had indeed assisted Robin Hood in his escape ! Now that was interesting. And demoralizing. How the devil could it be possible to exonerate de Rainault, Gisburne and Huntingdon, if the latter had indeed committed treason ? Would the whole venture prove to be more of a waste of time than it already was ?

A ghostly smile passed on the earl's lips. "That's not the same thing. You are my son. My blood." He looked strangely pained as he said the last words, and so did Robin Hood, as though they shared a secret no one else knew, and these words held more than their obvious meaning.

"Father, we can argue about it later. For now we have to escape ! You are innocent ! I know you did not plot against the King."

"That may be so", Huntingdon acknowledged, "but I did commit treason when I freed you. I am guilty of that, if not of the crime I am accused of. Everything has a cost, son. It is time you learnt that lesson."

"You have to..." Robin began, but the earl interrupted him in mid-sentence, his voice full of unshakeable determination.

"Leave, Robert. There is nothing you can do for me."

That was too much for... well, for Much. The half-wit fell to his knees near the metallic grid that closed the filthy hole in which Huntingdon was locked. "He risked his life to come and get you ! You have to come !"

Huntingdon simply sat back down on the thick, brittle straw covering the ground, and Robin Hood swore under his breath.

"All right", he said, "we'll have to take him by force."

That was shocking enough to get Huntingdon to react. The earl stared at his son. "You wouldn't dare !"

"Try me", Robin retorted. "I am an outlaw, remember ?"

"And _I _am your father ! Will you stop arguing and obey me for once ?"

"No. John, open that thing, will you ?"

The tall man acknowledged the order and went to work on the metallic grid with the bunch of keys he had taken to one of the guards. But he had not quite found the right key yet when the alarm was raised. Somebody must have stumbled upon one of the unconscious guards, unless one of said guards had regained consciousness. The how and why hardly mattered for the moment.

"There is no time", Tuck murmured. "Robin, we have to leave now !"

De Rainault agreed wholeheartedly, but he doubted anybody would heed his advice. He glanced at the door ; perhaps he would better slip out discreetly while everybody was busy with this pigheaded earl.

"Hurry, John !" Robin Hood said through clenched teeth, having seemingly not heard the chaplain's muffled comment.

But Tuck cared about his skin just as much as the next man, and he could be as stubborn, too. He laid a hand on Robin's shoulder. "We must go. It's too late. We'll come back."

If they did, that would be without the Sheriff, but he decided it was wiser to let them know that only later.

"We can't leave my father behind !" Robin protested, his voice betraying his distress.

"If we don't go now, we'll join him", de Rainault commented, as obviously the outlawed leader needed a shove in the right direction. "Needless to say, that will accomplish nothing."

Robin Hood's features contorted in anger, but he had to acknowledge the truth in the Sheriff's statement. Sighing in defeat and frustration, he nodded curtly. "All right. Let's go."

Grimly, he took the lead. De Rainault was only too happy to follow, but Robin Hood's reluctance to leave might have been enough to cut their only way out. Guards were coming that way, and closer by the second. They appeared as the outlaws engaged the corridor leading to the secret passage, and Little John, who was bringing up the rear, stopped.

"Go !" he shouted. "I'll hold them back !"

What an idiot, the Sheriff thought angrily. If the guards had had any doubt as to the location of they preys, that was no longer the case. Did this great oaf really need to shout so loud ? Yet, the guards did look somewhat intimidated by the outlaw's height and bulk, and they hesitated to go into action.

_You have crossbows, you bunch of idiots ! Use them ! _de Rainault nearly shouted, before remembering whose side he was on. With an angry growl, he ran.

The trapdoor leading to the underground passage was only meters further. By the time everybody had reached it, Little John had retreated to the doorstep and was holding his own against an unknown number of men. Robin Hood got into the passage, then Much, then Tuck, who miraculously managed to get his bulk through the tight entrance without losing too much skin. De Rainault slid down behind them, and a moment later heard a heavy _thud_ as Little John jumped down as well. There was no time to close the passage, but anyway it would have been impossible to use it again, so that hardly mattered.

If he survived this insane ordeal, de Rainault would have this stupid tunnel destroyed. It had brought him nothing but unpleasant surprises. If he knew who had ordered the construction of that thing, he would gladly kill him. And torture him.

Bah ! Chanced were the man in question had been dead for centuries, anyway.

De Rainault found himself running in the pitch-darkness of the underground passage, doing his best not to slip in the soft and thick mud, result of decades of neglect and lack of maintenance.

But a secret passage would hardly be secret anymore if servants were sent there every morning to clean up. That led to an unpleasant choice between hygiene and secrecy. The lesser of two evil...

De Rainault cast aside this fruitless line of thought as, at last, he felt a cold, pure breeze from outdoors hit his face, and he inhaled deeply. As much as he was able to after such a run. He would have given much to be allowed to rest a little, and he was not the only one if the heavy respiration of the outlaws were any indication, but Robin Hood did not see it that way.

"Quickly, to the forest !" the outlaw urged. "They're bound to send people after us."

The frenzied run resumed, and Robin Hood allowed them only two halts before they reached the safety of the woods. De Rainault would not have believed it possible, only two days ago, if someone had told him he would feel safe in Sherwood.

The rest of the way to the outlaws' cave passed in a blur, and the Sheriff was only too glad when it stopped and he was able to slump down and catch his breath.

"The others are not here yet", Robin said, sounding concerned.

He was probably trying not to think about his father. Do-gooders such as him were so predictable.

"They will not be able to get out through the tunnel", Tuck said, stating the obvious.

De Rainault frowned, feeling an unpleasant sensation creep up his spine. Not that he cared about Gisburne, but without the girl and without Huntingdon, it would be hard to prove his innocence...

"Where is Marion ?" Much suddenly asked.

A very loud silence followed the question, as everyone looked around, and had to submit to the facts ; the young lady was nowhere in sight.

Nothing had been accomplished, Marion had been lost, as had Gisburne and the ones accompanying him. This expedition had not just been a waste of time ; it had been an utter, total, complete disaster.

How had _ever _Robin Hood managed to be so much of a nuisance with such dismal skills ?


	10. Chapter 10

Hugo de Rainault popped his head round the corner, looked on his right, then on his left, and finally satisfied there was no immediate danger in sight, moved silently forward. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself; but in the middle of the corridor, he hesitated, unsure where to go. Where could he hide from three very, very angry and dangerous earls ? The gaols came to his mind, but he dismissed the idea immediately, not only because the place was filthy, smelly and dirty, but also because he had no wish to go anywere closer to the jails than he absolutely had to.

All this was ridiculous. There he was, playing hide and seek with three earls whom he was not even sure were looking for him...

No, they had to be looking for him. Or if they were not, they would be. What he had found out... but they could not know it was him, could they ? Yet, somehow, he had a feeling they _would _know. If only because he had a very good motive in the person of his brother. Well, he hated and despised his brother, and Robert despised and hated him back, but the earls could hardly know that, could they ?

Perhaps he would better go to Sherwood. There, at least, he would be safe. But the mere idea of going to the outlaws... in spite of his predicament, the Abbott could not keep back a grimace of disgust. He had been their prisoner once, and he did not care to reiterate the experience. In any case, he could not stay there, in the middle of the corridor. Some said that the best hiding places were in plain sight, but that was pushing it a little. Hugo hardly believed that the earls could go past a purple-clothed man of the church and not notice him.

Starting to walk again, he cursed his brother under his breath. It was all Robert's fault - he was the one who had got him in so big a heap of trouble that he could not see the end of it. To think he had been commiserating with the man ! If he was _ever _faced with a similar choice, he would take the easy way out and let Robert manage by himself. Better yet - he would go on a pilgrimage and stay out of the way until his brother was dead or back in royal favours.

However, it was a little too late for that now. He was in it up to his neck - and the said neck would not hold on to his head much longer if he did not find a solution. Not even a pilgrimage would save him ; the earls would not rest until he was dead, he knew it. Well, there was the problem - he knew too much. He wished he had never even heard of this thrice damned roll of parchment. He would have burnt it, but it was now his only weapon against the earls, so he could not really afford to.

_Robert is going to owe me a _lot_ after that. I only hope I live to get something in return._

Hugo could not decide where to go. Should he barricade himself in his room ? But he could not stay there forever, and somehow he doubted a simple door would suffice to protect him. On the verge of panic, he kept walking. Perhaps the abbey, if he managed to get out of the castle alive...

"There he is !"

The Abbott's blood ran cold in his veins when he heard the call, and he swirled back to face the man who had cried out. He recognized him immediately ; the earl of Derby. God in heaven... his hand went to his waist to feel the hilt of the dagger he kept at his side. He usually used it to eat, but it could just as well cut into human flesh. Hugo was not a soldier, never had been, never had even wanted to be one, but he would be damned if he let himself be killed without a fight. Even if that was a fight he could not possibly hope to win.

_God will recognize his own..._

Two other earls soon showed up. Their faces were familiar as well, but Hugo hardly needed to recognize them to know what to call them, for the parchment he had stolen bore their names as well as their seals. Warwick and Leicester. The three noblemen came forward, slowly surrounding the Abbot, obstructing his only way out. No more running away, then. Hugo was terrified beyond comprehension, yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he was oddly relieved that the chase had come to an end. Confronting his enemies was not much better than being hunted down, some might say it was worse, but at least he could see their faces, unimportant though it may seem.

"My dear Abbott", Derby said lascively, with a pretence of civility, "I think you have something that belongs to us."

Hugo straightened. He was cornered, and he knew it, but he tried to control his fear and stop shaking. "Do I ?" he said coolly, surprised to find his voice so steady when inwardly he was moaning. He would have begged if he had thought it would do any good, but he knew it would earn him nothing but the earls' disdain and scorn.

"Oh yes, you do", Derby replied, all the false warmth leaving his voice as his face grew cold and his eyes shone ruthlessly. "And we will have it back, if we must take it on your dead body."

"If I give it to you, I am dead anyway."

"That may be so. But you do not have much of a choice, do you ? Besides, I am quite sure we could come to an agreement."

The offer may seem more tempting than certain death, but Hugo was no fool, and his lips thinned. "I doubt it." He mainly doubted that he would live over five minutes past any agreement he made with these men.

Derby sighed, with something akin to regret. "In that case, there is nothing more to be said. Rest in peace, Lord Hugo."

He was about to attack, and Hugo decided it was time to play his trump card. "Wait", he said. "If you kill me, you will never get the document back."

The earl paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't believe you."

"You should. I have hidden it so well that you will never find it without my help."

"In that case, we do not need you. So long as nobody finds it, the document does not matter."

Derby was bluffing, Hugo decided, or he would already be dead. "I'm not a fool", he said. "It is well hidden, but in such a place that it _will _be found."

A flash of rage crossed the earl's face. "Tell me where it is !" he demanded.

"No", spat Hugo, as he unsheathed his dagger.

He did not have the time to use it, though. The earl of Derby was a seasoned warrior, and he had a long sword where Hugo had a short blade. With a swift motion of the wrist, Derby's sword cut Hugo's hand, and the Abbott dropped his weapon with a moan of pain. Leicester and Warwick took advantage of that to grab each one of Hugo's arms, leaving him at Derby's mercy.

All rational thoughts flew from his mind as he realized he could be killed any moment. "Don't kill me !" he whimpered. Somewhere in the back of his head, a little voice told him it was no use, but for the love of God, he did not want to die !

Something akin to contempt flashed in Derby's eyes, but he spoke calmly, hammering the words. "Tell. Me. Where is the document ?"

A spurt of will made Hugo stand up to him and glare. "No."

"Very well. You could have had a swift death. But how he will die is a choice every man must face on his own." He picked up Hugo's dagger and pressed it on his throat, just enough that a rivulet of blood trickled down his neck and stained his collar. "It will change nothing, you know. Whether you speak freely or not will not change the outcome. The only thing that will change is the amount of pain you will have to endure. I do not enjoy torture, but I do what I must, for the good of the country."

The good of the country. Hugo would have laughed if he had not been so utterly terrified. He knew people like Derby well enough ; they were no different from himself and Robert, except they hid their selfishness and greed under noble words and grand ideals. They were only a bunch of hypocrits. The good of the country, of course, but more specifically, the good of the earl of Derby. It revolted Hugo to die at the hands of a man like that, though to tell the truth it revolted him to die at all.

"I curse you", he said through gritted teeth.

Derby had a mirthless laugh, and did not answer. The dagger left Hugo's throat, only to brush against his arm. Naturally, the earl did not want him dead... yet. Hugo was not ashamed to scream at the top of his lungs when pain shot through his arm.

"It is painful, is it not ? Tell us what we want to know, and it will stop."

Oh yes, it would stop, definitely and definitively. Hugo was not quite ready to give up on his own life just yet, so he bit his lips, and glared, and wished he could curse the earl into oblivion. Then the pain worsened, and he stopped thinking altogether.

"What is going on here ?"

People began to fill the corridor, probably drawn by Hugo's screams of pain. A complete confusion followed, as everybody stared at the three earls and the Abbott, and tried to understand what was going on. However, everybody went silent when the King himself made his appearance. Hugo looked at the sovereign through a haze of pain, and for the first time of his life he felt gratitude at the sight.

"Is it impossible to have any calm and quiet in this dreadful place ?" King John growled. "Derby, Leicester, Warwick, explain yourselves !"

Hugo saw the occasion and seized it. "Sire - " he began.

He did not have time to say more before Warwick hit him in the stomach and pressed his blade against his neck.

"Another sound and you're dead", the earl whispered in the Abbott's ear.

Had he wanted to disregard Warwick's warning, Hugo could not have, trying as he was to catch his breath.

"My liege", Derby said respectfully, "I am sorry if we disturbed you. My fellow earls and myself found out that this man", he gestured at Hugo, "is a traitor, as is his brother the Sheriff. It seems that deception and villainy run in their blood."

Hugo tried to speak and defend himself, but all he managed was a choked sound. Warwick's sword bit a little deeper in the soft flesh of his neck.

"What ? Another traitor ?!" As was to be expected, King John was choking with rage, though he was spared for this time one of his usual fits of fury. "Betraying... _me_...!"

"Yes, my liege. Fortunately, we found him out before he had time to conspire any further."

Hugo wished Derby would choke with his lies as he himself did with his own bile. He felt sick. Actually, he even saw coming the moment when he would throw up on Warwick. That would be a sight, but that kind of entertainment was likely to be lethal, so he tried to breathe deeply and to calm his upset stomach.

"Take him away ! In the gaols ! He will stand trial with the others", the King ordered, his face an interesting shade of purple.

The sovereign had not even asked for any evidence, Hugo thought bitterly as two members of the King's personal guards carried out their orders and dragged him to the dungeons. He had believed every word Derby had told him.

Whatever happened to him, King John would have well deserved it for being so gullible.

* * *

Hugo usually stayed clear of the gaols. Not only because it was filthy, smelly, and he had nothing to do there, but also because that was beneath a man of his rank. He had never imagined before that he might end up in one of them. If Robert had not been so keen on capturing Robin Hood, none of that would have happened, the Abbott thought resentfully as he landed rather hardly on the dry and brittle straw that covered the bottom of this filthy hole wherein he was supposed to await his death warrant.

The harsh landing did not do anything for his injuries either, and he clutched at his arm with a groan of pain. Under his fingers, he felt a thick and sticky dampness that could only be blood. He had never been seriously injured before - contrary to Gisburne, who seemed to make an art of it - so he was absolutely unable to assess the gravity of his wounds. Was it minor, or was he in any danger of bleeding to death ? If the pain he felt was any indication, he tended to believe the latter.

A crystalline laugh drew Hugo out of his self-pity. Raising his eyes, he saw... God in heaven, did they _have _to put him in the same gaol as Marion ? He had seen enough of the girl for the rest of his life, thank you very much. And the woman dared to mock him ! Actually, she was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks. Hugo did not feel the situation warranted such a shameful display of emotion.

"May I know what is so funny ?" he asked icily.

"Oh my God", Marion gasped, still laughing. There was an edge of hystery to her mirth, though. "If I ever thought I would be sharing a gaol with Abbott Hugo de Rainault !"

Now that his eyes were getting used to the darkness, Hugo saw a figure move and a white-haired man, with a patrician face and the disgusting, self-satisfied smile of a good Samaritan - well, Hugo could not quite see it, but his imagination provided him with all needed though unwanted details - came forth and wrapped his arms around Marion in a gesture of comfort.

"Now, calm down, my lady", murmured Huntingdon. "I'm here. Shh."

Hugo did not see how Huntingdon's presence could make the situation any better - in his opinion, it made it worse if anything, except perhaps for a comfortingly mean sentiment of satisfaction at seeing him in as much of a predicament as Hugo himself.

Huntingdon turned his face towards the Abbott. "What happened ?"

"What do you care ?" Hugo retorted bitterly.

"Does it have anything to do with my son ?"

"Yes, it does", the Abbott spat, "and if you had raised him properly, none of this would have ever happened."

"That's hardly fair", said Marion, who seemed to have recovered from her disgraceful fit of laughter. "If your brother and Gisburne treated the people better..."

Hugo ignored her ostensibly. He was not going to have an argument with her about the "rights of the people" or any such ludicrous concept, not when he was to be executed in a few hours, a day or two at the most. Instead, he focused on his wounds. They still bled profusely - or at least it felt that way when he touched them.

"Let me..." Marion offered kindly.

Hugo jerked back from her as violently as if she had made an indecent proposal. "Leave me alone", he snarled in a voice he wanted to be threatening, but that sounded rather weak.

Marion shrugged. "Fine", she said curtly. "If you want to suffer, that is your problem indeed."

Somewhat vexed that she had not insisted, Hugo glared and turned his back on her. Childish, he knew, but that did make him feel better. Sharing a jail with a woman, that was just... did these guards have any shred of decency ? Probably not. Though, on second though, Huntingdon was old enough to be her father, and Hugo himself was... well, he was not supposed to have any such inclination. And, as a matter of fact, he did not.

* * *

Robin was sitting glumly by the fire, in front of Aceline. That was hardly a satisfying sight ; not that the girl was so unpleasant to look at, but he would have given anything to see red curls instead of these straight brown hair. He would have given anything to have Marion back. And to think he had had to entrust the fate of the woman he loved to Hugo de Rainault, of all people ! It was like asking one of the devil's minions to help an angel. Yet, he had no choice, but he hated himself for his powerlessness.

His gaze drifted to Gisburne, who was sitting down, looking tremendously bored. Now that was another problem. In spite of all his efforts, Robin could just not bring himself to like, or even accept the steward as his brother. Try as he might, all he felt when he looked at him was anger and contempt, mixed with a vague sentiment of regret. Knowing the truth about the bond they shared changed absolutely nothing to his feelings, and somewhere, deep down, he was ashamed of it. He was not ready to deal with it while his father and Marion were in danger, though, so he tried to sweep the matter aside, but it kept haunting him. Gisburne and him were so different, yet so alike in so many ways - the way they were driven by their beliefs and their passions, for one. And then, Robin understood where part of his dislike for his brother was rooted ; he was afraid to be like him. The same blood ran in their veins. Could he be certain, absolutely certain, that he would never turn into such a man as Gisburne - hateful, bitter, heartless ? He was not scared of Gisburne - he was scared of himself.

Heaving a deep sigh, the young man closed his eyes. He opened them again hastily, however, when he heard the sound of a hurried pace. Raising his head, he saw Little John come into the camp - yes, it was his turn to stand guard, was it not ? - accompanied by a girl, whom Robin was sure enough he had never seen before.

"What's going on ?" he asked as he came to his feet. "Little John, who is that ?"

But before the giant had time to answer, Much ran to the girl. "Vivian !"

Robin looked at her with curiosity. So it was she who had caught Much's attention. He could understand it ; she was pretty enough, with her red, untamed mane and her large blue eyes. She could not be much older than fifteen or sixteen, but looked mature for her age. Well, she did have a few excessive pounds, but somehow they suited her well.

At the moment, she was looking around her with something akin to awe on her face. Her eyes stopped on Robin, and she stared at him so fixedly that he began to feel somewhat annoyed. However, knowing she did not mean to be rude, he smiled at her and bowed deeply.

"Welcome to Sherwood, young lady."

Vivian had a brief, nervous laugh. "I am no lady, sir. My name is Vivian of Colwick. I work in the kitchens."

She had a bit of a Saxon accent, but it was not that bad.

"I am Robin Hood", Robin introduced himself.

"I know", the girl answered hastily. "Well, I mean, Much told me, but I did not quite believe..." at that point, she blushed and cast Much a guilty glance. The boy looked a little disgruntled and disappointed, but he would get over it.

Robin glanced at the Sheriff. He was glaring venomously at Vivian, and Robin almost winced. He would have to tell Vivian to find herself another job, if de Rainault ever got his position back.

"Is there anything for your service, young lady ?" he asked the girl.

"Oh, I almost forgot !" she exclaimed, tapping her forehead. "I came to bring you news of the castle."

That caught Robin's attention. "Has something happened ?" he asked urgently, and then cold tendrils of fear gripped his heart. What if the King had rescheduled his father's execution ? What if his father was already dead ? Or Marion ?

Some of his alarm must have appeared on his face, for Vivian was quick to reassure him. "Oh, nothing too dreadful, don't worry. It's just that, the Lord Abbott was accused of treachery..."

"_What _?!" gasped Robin, imitated by most of the present company.

"Again ?" Will said mockingly. "Don't the high and mighty of this world have anything better to do than accuse each other of treachery ?"

"It is hardly a laughing matter", Robin told him scathingly, and Will had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself, though he sent his leader a rebellious glance. "Vivian, this is very important. The lives of my father and of Marion may be at stake. Can you tell me who accused Hugo ?"

"They say it was one of the earls, but I do not know his name. It happened very recently. I'll probably hear more about it later", Vivian declared.

"We might not have time to wait", Robin said, concerned. He glanced again at the Sheriff. De Rainault had not said anything, but... was it concerne, etched on his features ? For Hugo, or for himself ? "I think we can assume that Hugo found the parchment. The earl of Derby found out about it and had Hugo accused so he'd be rid of him."

"So what can we do ?" Vivian asked, obviously eager to help.

_If I knew_, thought Robin. Out loud, he answered, "we will have to devise a plan."

"Trust Hugo to botch the simplest assignment", de Rainault mumbled. Gisburne cast him a sharp glance, no more fooled by the Sheriff's detached behaviour than Robin was.

"Let's think for a moment", the outlaw said. "We know that Hugo must have found the document, or Derby would not have gone to such lengths to get rid of him. Hugo has the information we need. Therefore, we must speak to him."

"And how do you suggest we do that, Lord Wolfshead ?" Gisburne asked sarcastically.

"We're waiting for your suggestions, Gisburne", Will said with a sneer. In spite of the situation, Robin bit back a smile ; trust Will to be protective of him in the worst situations. And Gisburne actually backed down, though he looked murderous.

"I have an idea", Vivian suddenly said.

"Keep to your place, girl !" Gisburne snapped. Obviously, the steward needed to blow off some steam.

"Shut up, Gisburne", Robin said unemotionally. He realized that he really did not care about his brother's state of mind, and it should have worried him, but he could not bring himself to care. "Vivian, we're listening."

"Here is my idea", the girl began, and she began to expose her plan.

As she went on, Much began to pale noticeable ; when she was done, he folded his arms and glared.

"No", he said.

Will's maniacal grin and Little John's hardly stifled snigger did not help.

"Much, it's a good idea", Robin said, making a respectable attempt to keep his face straight.

"No, no and no. I will not do it."

At that, Robin grew more serious. "My father's life is at stake !"

"Fine - you do it, then."

"You know I can't. My face is too well known. And Marion's life is at stake as well."

"Come _on_", Little John prompted him.

"We promise we won't laugh", Will added, but the mirth underlying his voice did not add to the credibility of that statement.

But it was probably Vivian who was the most persuasive. "Oh, don't be such a softy !" she said scornfully. "I expected better from you, after what you told me."

Much's face turned as red as the girl's hair. "That's a good one ! You're not the one who's gonna have to... have to..."

"Oh, that won't hurt you", she snorted. "Your pride, on the other hand... but don't tell me that the life of Lady Marion is not worth a little humiliation."

Much nodded sulkily, his lips stiff. "Fine ! Fine, I'll do it. But I don't want anybody else to know about it."

"Nobody will know about it", Robin reassured him. "Except us."

"And Lady Marion", Vivian added.

"And the earl of Huntingdon", Little John said through stifled laughter.

"And Abbott Hugo", Will concluded with a wicked grin.

At that point, Much looked distinctly sick. Perhaps with reason, if what was said of the Abbott was true...

* * *

The brittle straw itched through Hugo's fine clothes, but he had given up scratching himself, not only because it was undignified - especially in a woman's presence - but also because there was no end to it. Besides, the itches, if unpleasant, were nothing compared to the rest of his problems. The pain in his arm, at least, had settled into a dull ache, but agony flared if he tried to move it. He was starting to regret having so offhandedly refused Marion's help, but he would be damned if he asked her now.

Huntingdon and Marion were proving to not be such a bad company. They spoke quietly between themselves, and left Hugo alone. It suited him fine ; he did not want anything to do with them. It was quite enough that he was scheduled to die with them - for he knew there would only be a show of a trial. The sentence had already been given.

There was a sound up at the door, and Hugo pricked up his ears. There was not much of anything else he could do to kill the time. Faint sounds of voice reached the bottow of the gaol, one of them distinctly feminine.

"...bring food to the prisoners", was saying the higher-pitched voice.

"...gotta inspect the food", came the guard's reply, and Hugo's mouth quirked in distaste. He would _not _eat something that had been "inspected" by an underling and touched with filthy paws. If not worse.

A silence followed while, presumably, the guard took his share of the prisoners' last meal, then a grunt of acceptance, and a moment later two girls knelt near the grid that closed the gaol. One of them took a piece of bread and threw it to Hugo, who missed it. Oh, well. He had not intended to eat it anyway, he thought, even while he eyed regretfully the chunk of bread.

"Abbot Hugo !" the girl whispered urgently, in a voice... that was very much _not _a girl's voice.

A _boy _? Crossdressed ? Hugo stared at him in dumbfounded indignation. That was against all the rules, a real sacrilege. And... and what did he care anyway, he was going to die.

"Abbot Hugo !" the girl-that-was-a-boy insisted. On second thought, he did look familiar, though Hugo could not place him.

"Yes, it's me", he hissed back with irritation.

"Look", the boy said, "we don't have much time. I was sent by Robin Hood and the Sheriff. We need to know what you did with the parchment, and what was written on it."

During the conversation, both Huntingdon and Marion had come closer, and the young woman brought her hand to her mouth. "Much ?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's me. Please don't laugh", the boy beseeched her.

Oh, now Hugo recognized him - of course ! The half-wit. He should have known. But he did not have much to lose by telling the serf what he wanted to know, so why not ?

"I hid the parchment", he said hastily. "I can tell you where it is."

He gave quick directions to find the roll of parchment - which he did not want to see ever again - and the half-wit acknowledged his understanding. "All right, I'll get it", the boy said.

Hugo's curiosity got the better of him, and he could not keep from asking the somewhat morbid question. "Do you know when the execution is scheduled ?" He was not even completely sure why he wanted to know, but he did.

"Not sure", Much said. "Tomorrow I think. Gotta go now. Don't worry, Marion, we'll get you outta here, and the earl too. And even the Abbott, if he behaves."

Hugo sputtered in indignation, but already the boy had gone, after throwing down three apples to go with the bread. Sighing, Hugo sat back down, not sure if his situation was any better than before the boy's visit. Well, at least somebody out there had remembered about him.

"What parchment was he speaking about ?" Huntingdon asked.

Hugo made a face. That was one subject he did not care particularly to broach. "It's a long story", he said curtly.

"I'm not going anywhere", the earl replied sardonically. "And you ?"

"Oh, if that makes you happy to know..." the Abbott said grudgingly. At the very least, that would kill some time.

* * *

Gisburne was mildly surprised to see the half-wit come back from his mission in one piece, and even more so to realize the boy had actually successfully completed his assignment. He had ditched the dress somewhere on the way, though. However, what mattered was that he had the roll of parchment, and indeed there it was, tucked under his arm. Robin Hood smiled broadly and smacked his back.

"Way to go, Much ! I knew you could do it. Vivian stayed at the castle ?"

"Yeah, she had her duties to attend to."

"Did you see Marion and my father ? Were they all right ?"

"They looked fine." Much gave the Sheriff a sidelong glance and added casually, "though the Abbott looked a little worse for wear."

De Rainault refused stubbornly to even appear concerned, so Gisburne took it upon himself to ask the next, logical question, since the half-wit did not volunteer the information.

"What happened to him ?"

"I think his arm was injured. I didn't ask." Much rolled his eyes. "It's not as if he would have answered me anyway."

However, Gisburne was more interested in the roll of parchment that would seal his fate and the Sheriff's, than in the Lord Abbott's state of health. Already, Robin was unrolling the document and began to read. After a moment, though, it became obvious he was struggling to grasp the meaning of the words he deciphered ; his furrowed brow and bitten lips made it clear enough.

"What's the matter ?" the steward asked impatiently.

"It's written in Latin", Robin replied with some amount of irritation. "Here, Tuck, give it a go, will you ?"

"Latin ?" the friar repeated. "It's been a very long time, Robin. I'm not sure..."

Yet, he took the document and began painstakingly to read it. "It has been decided... amongst... the cats of the household... to divide King John ?" He looked quizzically at Robin.

"Are you reading, or asking me ?" the Lord Wolfshead asked in irritation. Gisburne rather shared that feeling.

"I'm guessing, all right ?" Tuck snapped. "I haven't used any Latin in years !"

"Damn", muttered Robin as he accepted the parchment back. His gaze swept the company, and stopped on Gisburne. "You try it."

The steward raised an eyebrow, but took the document. However, the Sheriff stepped in almost immediately.

"What are you thinking about ?" he asked Robin, his mouth quirking in contempt. "Gisburne has already trouble reading plain English. Give me that."

He grabbed the parchment without waiting for Gisburne to give it to him, and the steward let him have it, rather offended. He read perfectly well - so long as he was not in too much of a hurry.

The steward soon forgot his discontentment however, as he listened while the Sheriff read the document, and his eyes widened in astonishment just as did the outlaws'. That was... unexpected.

"This day, December 10th, we, earls of Leicester, of Derby, of Warwick, have agreed to undertake a sacred task for the good of England and of the people. What a stupidity."

Naturally, de Rainault was not ashamed to insert his own comments as he read.

"...and so we have deemed necessary to..." the Sheriff's voice faltered slightly in surprise. "...to depose King John, whose authority and right to rule we no longer recognize..."

A shocked silence followed, before de Rainault got over his bewilderment and resumed his reading. The rest of the document was only a series of legal formulae.

"It is perfectly in order, as much as possible", the Sheriff concluded. "The seals of the three aforementioned earls are indeed there, and their signatures. There is no doubt whatsoever."

"My god..." Robin murmured. "No wonder they tried to get rid of my father, if he knew about that. This document is a real bomb. I don't understand why they wrote it in the first place. They had to be aware of the danger !"

"I should think it was obvious", de Rainault sneered.

"Pray, do enlighten us", the Lord Wolfshead retorted dryly.

"It was a way to ensure each other's loyalty. I would assume Leicester and Warwick have a copy as well. With such a guarantee, none of the conspirators can afford to betray the others, when such evidence of their guilt exists."

"Right", Robin nodded his understanding.

Away from them, Aceline was softly crying, but nobody was paying her any attention. Gisburne did not feel sympathetic at all ; the lady's father had tried to get rid of him and the Sheriff, after all, without even a real reason. Now, Gisburne had never been one to have too many qualms, but when he did something he at least had a reason for it, most of the time personal gain. He did not sweep people away for the sheer pleasure of it. Not that he had never been tempted. But Derby had decided to get rid of them, just because he felt like it. Well, he was going to regret it.

"So what are we going to do ?" Will asked impatiently.

For the first time (and hopefully the last) Gisburne felt some kind of kinship with the crazy outlaw. He, too, craved for some action, preferably involving Derby dying a ghastly death.

"We are going to show this to the King", Robin declared.

His statement triggered a common outcry from the rest of his band.

"The King is in the castle !" Tuck said.

"You're not thinking of going back there, are you ?" Will asked suspiciously.

"I for one am through", Much declared. "I'm not going back, not in a woman's clothes, not in a boy's clothes."

"Then you can go naked if you like", Gisburne said snidely. "That might do for a diversion."

Much reddened and fell silent, which had been the steward's aim all along.

"I am aware of all that", was saying Robin, "but there is at least a moment during which the King will be approachable."

"And when would that be ?" the Sheriff enquired suspiciously.

Robin smiled grimly. "During the trial, of course."


	11. Chapter 11

It can seem surprising how much common people relish the sight of death, so long as it is not their own. Perhaps the satisfaction of being themselves safe while others had their head on the block - quite literally. In any case, no matter the reason, quite a lot of people had come to witness Huntingdon's trial - which was presumably to be followed by his execution. All the more presumably since the executioner was already there ; one might almost wonder why the King bothered to hold a trial at all.

Nevertheless, that was to Gisburne's best interests that many people would be present, for it was not easy to go unnoticed being as tall as he was. Truth was, most of Robin Hood's people were despairingly conspicuous, from a Saracen to a giant, not to mention a friar almost as wide as he was tall. Only because the streets were so crowded, had no one spotted them yet. They had also been careful to keep their faces down and concealed under various forms of headgear.

In Gisburne's opinion, Robin's plan was dismally worthless. Showing up before the King was one thing ; making him listen was quite another, and the steward sincerely doubted that anyone, let alone a notorious outlaw, could get King John to be reasonable about the whole thing. However, as he had no better idea, he had had to go along. He suspected the Sheriff did not hold Robin's strategic skills in higher regard, but de Rainault had come along too nonetheless. As the Sheriff was a clever man - no matter what else he might be called, he had to be granted at least that - if even he had no better idea... well, perhaps there was truly no better option.

That is how Gisburne found himself at the door of a building which gave on the market place, where the trial - and presumed execution - were to take place. A meager consolation was the familiar weight of his sword, which he had been given back under the reason that necessity ruled, and which he kept concealed beneath his cloak. Robin Hood was on the roof, the rest of his men placed at strategic points to defend the house, just in the oh so unlikely eventuality that King John would not bother to read the parchment and decide that it would be cheaper and safer to just have everybody executed.

From where he was, Gisburne had a perfect view on the King and the seven remaining earls ; he was also one of the first to see Huntingdon, who was escorted in front of the public court by four guards. In spite of himself, Gisburne bit his lower lip when he saw the man's pale and drawn features, his dishevelled state and his ruffled clothes, and he had to firmly remind himself that he did not care about Huntingdon, except insofar as he might expect to get an earldom out of it.

The Lady Wolfshead was nowhere in sight, nor was the Lord Abbot. Either they would be brought in later, or they were not deemed sufficiently important to warrant a trial and would simply be quietly executed in their cell. Perhaps they were already dead... Gisburne hoped not. If Hugo was dead, the Sheriff would be absolutely unbearable - well, more so than usual in any case - for weeks. However, that was unlikely. Huntingdon would probably have the dubious honour of being killed first.

In spite of his precarious situation, the earl stood tall and proud in front of his King. In truth, Huntingdon had this little something in his behaviour and way of being that simply screamed of his upringing as a nobleman. It was not just arrogance but the awareness of being someone whose opinion mattered, that marked him as a natural leader. Gisburne shivered, and wondered if that man was truly his father.

When the King began speaking, the rabble fell silent - as they should, and as the King's men made sure they did.

"David of Huntingdon", the King was saying, "you have been charged with treason, and there is little doubt as to your guilt. No one will say, however, that I am not fair, and so I am giving you an opportunity to speak for yourself."

So that was the reason behind the trial. The King did not want to make it look like he beheaded his earls for no reason. He was compelled to treat this matter seriously, because otherwise he might well have an uprising on his hand. Well, he already had one, but he did not know that. He soon would, if Robin Hood's ploy worked.

"My liege", Huntingdon replied, his voice ringing so clear and loud even Gisburne could hear him from where he was standing, "I will admit to having endeavoured to free my son, for I love him. But never, ever, have I conspired against the crown, nor spoken or acted treacherously in any other fashion."

King John's fist hit the wooden armrests of his chair. "Liar !" he growled in what seemed to be the beginning of one of his anger fits. "Liar, liar, liar ! How dare you lie to your King ?!"

Huntingdon paled under the insult, but remained otherwise deadly calm. "I am not..." he began, but did not have time to finish the sentence for at that very moment, a bowstring sang, and an arrow embedded itself hardly an inch from the King's head. Mostly everybody followed the trajectory of the arrow, and their eyes met with Robin Hood, standing on the roof of a house.

Some panic followed, which the King's cries to "seize him !" did not help to dispel. The rabble, however, knew they had nothing to fear from Robin Hood, and endeavoured mainly to stay out of the way of the royal guards, or occasionally to hinder them discreetly. It seemed Robin Hood had quite a few sympathizers in Nottingham, Gisburne thought wryly. That did not really come as a surprise, but if he got his rank back, he would make sure to have a few of these people brought in for interrogation.

In the meantime, he had other things to worry about, and he drew his sword as the guards approached. They were not really his enemies - or at least they were not supposed to - but so long as they tried to kill him, he would hit them back.

"Sire !" Robin shouted. "Tied to this arrow, you will find a document that incriminates three of your earls of high treason. Huntingdon is not one of them !"

Derby stepped hastily forward and said something to the King, too low for Gisburne to hear. It was not difficult, however, to guess that he must be telling him not to listen to the outlaw, or something of the kind. But King John shook his head and seized the parchment. He was actually going to read it, Gisburne realized in surprise. He wondered whether the sovereign spoke Latin, but it was likely.

However, while all this was taking place, the guards were still following their orders, and Gisburne had to take his eyes off the King to focus on his defence, especially after one of his assailants grazed his arm. Standing just behind the frame of the door, he was able to take his enemies one at a time, though it did hinder his freedom of movement. A little further, he saw other guards aim at the roof with their crossbows, but Robin would have to manage, because he had more than enough on his plate already.

Having fended off another guard, Gisburne had a brief respite and was able to sneak a glance at the King. He was reading the document, frowning. Realizing that the odds were turning against him, Derby unsheathed a dagger and was about to strike the King, when Huntingdon jumped forward and grabbed his wrist. The two earls began struggling for the dagger in the utmost confusion.

At that point, Gisburne had to return to his own fighting, but not knowing what was happening was a torture. After all, his earldom was also at stake.

"You bunch of idiots !" he shouted to the guards still attacking him. "Your King is in danger !"

The result went beyond his expectations. Really, he should have begun with that ; the guards immediately picked on that more immediate danger and, leaving the steward alone for the time being, endeavoured to push their way through the crows to reach the King's vicinity.

The fight between Derby and Huntingdon was continuing, neither of them taking the advantage.

"Kill him !" the King shouted.

The guards hesitated, unsure whether "he" was Huntingdon or Derby. They were about to shoot anyway, and risk hitting both men, but they were spared that choice. A second arrow flew from the roof, and embedded itself in Derby's back. The earl took a step back, surprise clearly registering on his face. The confusion began to quiet down, while the crowd's attention was caught by the sight of the earl staggering back. Derby looked up, straight at the King.

"Long live Britain !" he shouted and ran forward.

Three crossbow bolts struck him simultaneously in the chest. He faltered, then fell, and he stopped moving as a puddle of blood widened around him and his skin took on the pallid shade of death. There was an awkward pause, as everyone realized little by little that the man was dead. The crowd had come to see death, but not quite in this fashion. Of course, that was easier when they could think it was simply justice, that it was fair ; but if there was one thing Gisburne had learnt, that was that death was no more fair than life. He doubted the rabble would understand, though ; and in a way, he could not help but feel a certain amount of respect for Derby. Naturally, after what the man had tried to do, he deserved what he had got, but nonetheless...

"Arrest Leicester and Warwick !" King John ordered, in such a sinister voice that Gisburne shuddered inwardly.

But the two men turned out to be nowhere in sight. Wiser than Derby, when they had seen that their plot had failed, they had not waited to suffer the consequences. The King sent immediately his men after them, but Gisburne doubted that would be any good. Then, John turned toward Huntingdon, and Gisburne felt that was the moment to get out of hiding. He dropped his cloak and walked forward, behind Huntingdon. The Sheriff must have had the very same idea, for he was just behind his steward - and took precedence.

Huntingdon kept respectfully silent, and did not try to plead his cause. The King looked at him through slitted eyes, and Gisburne wondered if the monarch would not order the three of them to death out of pure spite. But the people were watching, and John could hardly have Huntingdon executed without reason, especially in front of his four remaining earls. One death was enough for the day ; and so long as Huntingdon was spared, there was really no reason to have the Sheriff or Gisburne executed either.

"You saved the life of your King", John said. "For this, I forgive you the attempt to free Robin Hood." His gaze swept over Gisburne and the Sheriff, hardly stopping on either of them. "You may go, all of you !" In his mouth, it sounded more like a threat or an insult than an exoneration. "As for Robin Hood - "

But the outlaw had already disappeared as well. That was a pity, but Gisburne could not bring himself to care. He had his position back, so did the Sheriff, and hopefully he would get his earldom. Next to that, the simple frustration of seeing Robin Hood escape yet again was a fleeting annoyance.

* * *

After all this, the King decided not to linger in Nottingham, and soon enough the earls followed his lead. As chance had it, Huntingdon was the last to leave, and he picked a rainy morning to do so. Gisburne chose to see the earl off, if only to have a word with him. Now that Huntingdon was no longer a wanted man, and his son was no longer in the Sheriff's gaol, he had no reason to give Gisburne any consideration ; and truly, the steward half expected to see him take back his word. He probably should have known better by then.

"My son", the earl greeted him when he strode in the courtyard.

Completely thrown off guard, Gisburne stared at him, and Huntingdon correctly interpreted his look. He had a sad smile - the kind that made Gisburne want to hit him.

"What, you thought I had forgotten ?" Huntingdon asked, then he hesitated. "I know your... your feelings towards me are not very affectionate, and I suppose I partly deserve it..."

"Partly ?" Gisburne repeated stiffly.

The earl waved the comment away. "Let's not argue over that. Nevertheless, you are my blood. You may not care much about family, but I do."

"Oh, yes", the steward bit back bitterly. "I've seen how much you do."

"Guy..."

Gisburne felt the blood draw from his face, conflicting emotion warring inside him. He chose to laugh, voluntarily mocking his father's attempts to close the rift that divided them. The scars were too old, his resentment too firmly anchored, for him to let go of his anger. Anger was his one last shield. Huntingdon probably understood, and did not insist. He simply sighed.

"I will change my will in your favour", he said at last. "Remember that you will always be welcome in my home. Our home. Should you choose to come before my death..."

"I doubt it", Gisburne replied distantly.

Huntingdon nodded wearily. In front of the King, he had been tall and proud ; but now, he looked like a tired old man.

Gisburne did not wait to see him cross the gate of the castle, and he got back inside. The Sheriff was sprawled in a chair, probably enjoying the feeling of having his office back. Hugo was nowhere in sight, but his absence was not exactly regretted ; in the past few days, after he had been freed by his brother, he had not lost an occasion to remind de Rainault and Gisburne of what they owed him. To which the Sheriff had eventually replied suavely, "why, I didn't know you had it in you, Hugo, to act out of brotherly love", and that had temporarily shut the Lord Abbot up.

"Well, did our favourite earl finally go away ?" de Rainault asked.

"Yes", Gisburne said curtly. "He's gone." Why did he feel strangely hollow when he said that ?

"You know, that's strange. All the while Huntingdon has been our guest, I kept thinking he looks familiar to me", the Sheriff continued with flippancy. "There is something in him that reminds me of somebody I know."

The steward feigned disinterest. "Is that so ?"

"Yes. The shape of his face, his figure... yes, he definitely reminds me of somebody I know."

Gisburne looked up. The Sheriff was staring at him mockingly.

"I wonder who that might be", Gisburne said, eyes narrowed.

"Yes", de Rainault agreed amiably. "So do I."

* * *

Robin was sitting at the edge of the forest, and he watched the sunset thoughtfully. Sometimes, he felt the need to be alone, and he came there to think. He was not alone very long, just as he had expected. He had hoped she would come.

"Are you all right ?" Marion asked as she sat down beside him.

Everybody in Sherwood had been surprised when she had been released. It was not like the Sheriff to be grateful, but Robin had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and not to waste time trying to understand how de Rainault's psyche functioned. Marion was there, and it was all that mattered. Besides, Robin suspected his father had to do with it, though Marion had been very tightlipped about the whole matter. The outlaw almost felt uneasy when he wondered what kind of things Huntingdon could have told her while they were both in jail. Hopefully, nothing about that one time when he had tried to sneak a serf in the castle and...

"Robin ?"

"Uh ? Yes, yes, I'm fine", he replied. "Just thinking. Why ?"

"You've been awfully silent all afternoon. I can feel something is bothering you. Tell me ?"

He sighed. "Here's a deal. I'll tell you, and you tell me why you left."

Marion stiffened, and for a moment he thought she was going to refuse, but after a while she nodded wearily. "All right. You first."

Robin took a deep breath. "I was thinking about Derby", he confessed. "About what he did, about what he said." He hesitated a moment, trying to find a way to word his feelings. "It's... in a way... well, thinking about it, I couldn't help but feel he was right. In a way, our fight was the same, against tyranny."

The sky was darkening, and in the twilight Robin felt less vulnerable as he bared his soul.

"I shot the arrow."

"What ?"

"The arrow that killed Derby. I did it because he was fighting my father. In everything but my intent, however, I acted as King John's man. I killed the traitor." Bitterness seeped through the outlaw's voice. "I gave up everything - my title, my life, my place at my father's right, to fight against tyranny ; and in the end, when I had to make a choice, I found myself on the wrong side."

"That's not the same", Marion protested. "All Derby wanted was to depose the King, to replace him with someone else. But you don't fight a man, you fight the unfairness of the system. You're better than Derby, or you would have killed the Sheriff a long while ago."

Robin understood her words, but he was hardly convinced. "He wanted to replace the King with my father. You know that my father is a fair man. He would have ruled well. What if I had directed my arrow just two yards to the left ? I could have killed a tyrant, and I chose to protect him."

"Robin, Robin..." Marion scolded him gently. "You know your father would never have agreed. What use is it to dwell on what might have been ? If it helps any, I think you did the right thing."

A silence.

"Yes", Robin answered finally, his throat tight. "That helps."

"I left because I could not stand it any longer", the young woman confessed suddenly.

"What ?" the outlaw asked, puzzled by the sudden change of subject. He turned his head to look at her, and she looked back steadily. He could read sorrow and fear in her eyes.

"I could not stand it any longer", she repeated. "I lost him, and then I thought I had lost you..."

There was no need to clarify who "he" was. He was never mentioned, but Robin knew how much his predecessor had meant to the other outlaws. He had even felt jealous, once, but not any longer.

"And you thought that leaving was a solution ?" he could not help but let some reproach show in his voice.

"I needed time, Robin", Marion replied softly. "But it was not only the fear of losing you. When I thought you were dead, just like him... I began to wonder if it was him I loved in you, all along. You don't realize it, of course, but you look so much like him... I was not sure of myself any longer. I needed to know my own feelings, because it would not be fair to you otherwise."

"So... have you....?"

"Thought about it ? Yes. Very much so. Every minute of everyday."

"Marion..."

"I am still not sure of the answer, Robin. I don't know if that's you I love, or him, or both. But I do know one thing. I cannot go on without you. I could stay at the covent, try to forget... I considered it. That was tempting. But I knew I would just keep fading, a little more everyday, until there was nothing left, until I was just this strange, old woman that sits all alone in a corner and lives in a dream. I don't want to become that. I want to live. I want to live with you."

"I don't care", Robin said. "I don't care about anything, so long as you stay with me. Perhaps you're not sure of your feelings, Marion, but I am certain of mine."

She took his hand, and he pressed hers back, intent on not letting her go ever again. Loxley was dead, and she was his to protect.

"Let's get back to the others", he suggested.

Marion smiled. "Let's get back home."


End file.
